


When the Bough Breaks

by ItsClydeBitches



Series: Rock the Cradle [2]
Category: Jupiter Ascending (2015)
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Childhood, Cool Bee Family Remains Cool, Cut Kids, Drama, F/M, Gen, Humor, Language, Romance, Sequel, Trans Character, Trans!Kalique, awkward space-angel-wolf boyfriend remains awkward, mentions of abuse, parenting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2018-09-18 01:35:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 28,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9359849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsClydeBitches/pseuds/ItsClydeBitches
Summary: Just days after Balem returned to his adult self, Jupiter is thrown head-first into another adventure - one she, frankly, really doesn't have the energy for. But when has the universe ever taken her desires into account? Mysteries, promises, and desperate moves forward; bees, splices, and awkward family dinners. It's enough to make even her seasoned head spin....which doesn't even include the chance to play at 'Mother' once more. Only question is: will Jupiter take it?(DIRECT SEQUEL TO "ROCK THE CRADLE")





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, lovely readers! 
> 
> (Are there readers? I honestly don't know how many people are still involved in the JA fandom. My hope is at least enough to make this undertaking 'worthwhile.') 
> 
> Regardless, over a year after "Rock the Cradle" finished and I was suddenly eager to dive into a sequel, as I pseudo-promised in the epilogue. Yes, I'm well aware I started two other chaptered, JA fics that haven't gone anywhere (I'm SO sorry). Yes, it's incredibly difficult to keep up with fics while trying to get a PhD (so I beg your indulgence), BUT I have every intention of being diligent about this story and trying to update weekly. If only because my brief dive back into the fandom for the Secret Santa exchange reminded me of why I love this universe so much. 
> 
> Additionally, know that though I have a very broad outline for this story, the middle/'meat' of it is still up in the air. So if there's anything in particular you'd like to see or that you'd like me to try and work in, don't hesitate to ask :) 
> 
> That's enough rambling from me. Onwards! <3

Jupiter sat with her back to most of the crowd, the sun warming her neck and her hands fidgeting endlessly. One traced the condensation on her glass while the other twisted the stud in her ear.

 

“I spy with my little eye…” she said, turning to scan the patrons. There was certainly a lot to choose from. The day was hot, the shopping good, and everyone seemed to have had the same idea as her: get lunch at the cute little outdoor café. Jupiter saw a young couple playing footsie underneath their table, the one girl’s heels gliding over the other’s sandals. There was another woman whom she presumed was a teacher, hard at work even during the summer months, covering some poor student’s paper using Track Changes. A group of guys shared a large plate of nachos. A father absently pet his daughter’s hair as he scowled at his phone. A mother—

 

Jupiter whirled back around. She planted her chin in her hand and pursed her lips. Then she smiled at Caine.

 

“Something yellow,” she finished.

 

“The confection on those men’s chips,” Caine answered readily. He bit his lip slightly when she huffed.

 

“ _How_ —?”

 

“Your stared at them a moment longer than the other spots. Did you want some?”

 

Nachos… food did always make her feel better. She’d already had a chicken and pesto sandwich though. And an iced chai. And half of Caine’s blueberry scone.

 

Jupiter waved him off. “No, I’m good. _You’re_ cheating though.”

 

“I am?” Caine blinked. “I thought the purpose of this game was to determine what you’d spotted based on eye-line matches, common facial tells, your individual preferences…” he trailed off when Jupiter’s sulking grew more pronounced.

 

“You’re supposed to _guess_ ,” she moaned.

 

“That… doesn’t seem to take much skill…”

 

Jupiter let out a groan and gave up, planting her head on the cool tabletop. Why she’d thought it would be a good idea to teach Caine a _kid’s_ game, she didn’t know. It had started as a stupid distraction, but apparently her subconscious wasn’t willing to let things go just yet. So Jupiter was now perfectly content to glare at the table, thank you very much. It was one of those frosted glass ones and Jupiter took a ridiculous amount of pleasure in watching her blurred feet kick at the slate. She only stopped when her flip-flop bent— _betrayal_ —and she stubbed her toe. Jupiter muttered a few obscenities into the crook of her arm.

 

A minute passed. Two. Then Jupiter felt the slightest poke on the top of her head. It turned into five fingers gently massaging her scalp and she groaned again, this time in contentment.

 

“I spy with my little eye… A queen who is rather worried about tonight’s festivities.”

 

“ _Festivities_.” Jupiter’s head shot back up and she blinked at Caine. “I wouldn’t really call it ‘festivities.’”

 

“No? You decided to host the event.”

 

Okay. So Jupiter may or may not have been overly optimistic and grasping at straws the second she walked out of that throne room. Could anyone really blame her? Her life hadn’t exactly been plan-proof lately: abducted by aliens, finding out she was Queen of Far Too Much Shit, landing herself a hunky angel-wolf-boyfriend…

 

… finding out her would-be murderer had possibly, deliberately de-aged himself.

 

Balem.

 

That was the crux of it all, wasn’t it? One moment Jupiter was sort of getting used to her newfound space life, the next a capitalist obsessed mama’s boy was taking up residence in her lap. She wasn’t going to lie, not to herself at least. Balem had drawn forth a whole slew of maternal instincts that, frankly, Jupiter had thought she’d missed out on genetically. Devotion to Dude Bros 1 through 6 of her misspent youth certainly hadn’t inspired a desire for kids. Hell, even Caine hadn’t managed that, not until Jupiter actually saw him shuffling around a cranky six-year-old, trying to figure out how to talk to this girlfriend-stealing creature. Maybe it was a sliver of Seraphi rising up within her… no. Maybe it was the essence of what Seraphi _could_ have been, if she’d bothered to spend a second to get to know the child she’d given life to. Maybe it was just that Jupiter couldn’t stand to see a tiny face crying like that. Whatever it was, Balem had managed to become quite the fixture within her heart—all the sappiness implied. Jupiter loved the brat. Only problem was, that brat was _gone_.

 

Sort of. Kind of? One second she’d had what she was coming to think of as a son, the next Jupiter just had an enemy again, breathing insults down the back of her neck… except that Balem had changed deliberately. _He_ had started all this. At least, that was the impression Kalique and Titus held. It couldn’t be a coincidence that Balem was reading Liam and Cryian’s story the day he took a Regene-X bath with a disabled genetic code. Or hell, maybe it was a coincidence. Caine and Stinger certainly weren’t convinced (“You Majesty,” soft eyes, an almost pitying stare. “Balem, the adult Balem, lost the ability to love centuries ago…”). All Jupiter knew for sure was that she’d seen evidence of her own, things that went beyond Kalique’s stupid book or the boys’ cynicism: Balem had worn her earring. He hadn’t tossed the album back in a charred heap. Jupiter knew—could see it in his eyes—that he _remembered_.

 

Certainly all the counted for something, right?

 

Jupiter planted her face into her hands. “Or maybe he just couldn’t be bothered to take the damn earring out,” she muttered.

 

Caine nodded, understanding, fingers returning to massage Jupiter’s wrist, right where her Entitled tattoo lay. He had callouses all over, the result of handling a ridiculously wide variety of weaponry, and Jupiter found the rough texture soothing. She let out a long, slow breath.

 

“I don’t know what we’re going to do with all this,” she said, nodding to the bags at their feet. “This was a stupid idea.”

 

“Stinger will appreciate the food. Even more if you cook it for him.”

 

“Ha. Yeah. How do you get so good at pancakes and nothing else?”

 

“It’s a talent.”

 

Jupiter continued nudging the nearest bag with the front of her flip-flop. As she did, movement caught her eye again: that mother, sitting on the table to their right, spoon feeding her infant something mushy and green. It was easy for that woman, wasn’t it? Nothing was easy for Jupiter as a potentially would-be mother… _or_ as a daughter.

 

She’d been stupidly optimistic a week ago. Dealing with Balem’s transformation and his quick turn back, Jupiter had admittedly been reeling a bit. She’d thrown out the invitation to dinner with more confidence than she’d felt, especially considering there hadn’t been a dinner scheduled yet. Kalique and Titus had both agreed readily enough—no doubt they wanted to get as much dirt on their brother as possible, though the more she thought about it, the more Jupiter convinced herself that Balem wouldn’t even show. Why would he? Tens of thousands of years weren’t outweighed by a few days in her care. Besides, if Balem was anything, he was _stubborn_.

 

Sometime between Friday and Saturday those dinner plans had turned into a “reveal-you’re-a-galactic-queen-to-your-family-omg-it’s- _time_ -Jupiter” party. She had promised her mom two days, after that fiasco of a dinner. She’d intended to call a meeting and explain things on Monday, as calmly and rationally as possible when her life was neither calm nor rational. Jupiter knew there was a _hell_ of a lot to explain. When she’d touched back down on Earth after seeing to Balem, she’d found her family happily back at home, neither Aleksa nor Nino recalling that just hours before Jupiter had disappeared on their client’s lawn, dematerializing in a flash of blue light. Apparently the Keepers stationed on Earth had a damn good response time.

 

Memory wipes after the refinery… after Balem… how long could this go on? Jupiter didn’t know what the long term effects of something like that was, and frankly, she didn’t want to find out. Just _tell_ them all ready, you dolt.

 

So… Monday. That had been the plan, anyway. Her mom and the others would have a few days days before Thursday’s dinner to process it all, which was a hell of a lot more than Jupiter had gotten. Imagine, coming to terms with extraterrestrial life without said life pointing a laser gun at your head, and _they_ weren’t the once inheriting a freaking planet. (Unless they were? Who gained her inheritance when she died?? Ugh, legalities…) The only problem with this master plan was that Monday had passed her by, with Jupiter spending it hovering anxiously around her mom—opening and shutting her mouth like a caught, cowardly trout.

 

…Easy to imagine how well that had gone over.

 

Tuesday gone, Wednesday too, Thursday morning at 12:00 Jupiter had called a quick goodbye after finishing the Lawrence’s house, met Caine at the store, and proceeded to purchase all the ingredients for a dinner that was only technically still in the works.

 

Here and now, Jupiter sullenly kicked the bag of groceries. Again.

 

“You’ll break the eggs,” Caine cautioned. He didn’t sound terribly upset about that though.

 

“Why did we even _get_ eggs? You don’t need eggs for a steak and baked potato dinner.”

 

“Stinger wants to broaden his breakfast repertoire.”

 

Jupiter narrowed her eyes. “Well Stinger can just—”

_Bzz, Bzz._

 

“—call me apparently." Caine shrugged, no more knowledgeable than she was. All Jupiter could do was palm her phone and lean her elbow casually on the table. 

 

"Hey, beekeeper. What's up?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! These will mostly be short chapters, but hopefully that will keep me on track. Hope you all enjoy this and that you have a great weekend! <3

“Tell her ‘no,’” Stinger’s voice said and then there was the irritating crackle of a cellphone passing. That was it. No ‘ _Hi, Jupiter!_ ’ or ‘ _Have you kept your sanity intact lately?_ ’ to act as a conversation starter. Rude. Jupiter shrugged at Caine’s look across the table.

 

“No,” she parroted as soon as she heard a different kind of breathing—huffy. There was a moment of angry silence.

 

“ _Yes_ ,” Kiza countered. “My Queen, I need a better data plan. You promised!”

 

Jupiter sat back, rolling her eyes even as Caine ducked his head, hiding a small smile. She always forgot how good his hearing was.

 

“Kiza, I recall a bunch of late-night texts with you _demanding_ a new plan. Through your dad. Which is super awkward, by the way. Why not just ask me for a new phone directly? I’ve got the money now.”

 

“You’re joking, right? Dad needs a new one too. He’s got a _flip phone_. You hearing me? That’s ancient even by Earth’s standards. Freaking prehistoric within the galaxy. _Dust_.”

 

Jupiter actually wasn’t hearing her—understanding, yes, and as an Earthling who’d gotten shoved into a ridiculously technologically advanced world, Jupiter had a lot to say about holding on to familiar things—but that aside, on the literal level Kiza’s voice kept fading out, replaced with a heavy, familiar drone.

 

Jupiter took a long sip of her drink. “Are the bees with you?”

 

“Don’t change the subject.”

 

“No seriously, you keep cutting out.”

 

Kiza sighed dramatically over the line. “Fine. More like I’m with them. The hives behind the house? Not sure if you’ve seen them yet. I… I think they’re missing some of their honey.”

 

Jupiter’s brow knit, but before she could say anything her phone was gently plucked from her hand. Caine juggled it a moment, his expression serious.

 

“What do you mean, ‘missing’?” he said. Very faintly, Jupiter could just hear Kiza reciting the definition of ‘missing’ and a long list of synonyms. Caine briefly closed his eyes.

 

“Kiza.”

 

“Hey, Mr. Rocket Boots, there’s this wonderful thing called a speaker…” Two seconds later Kiza’s voice filled the table between them while Caine looked vaguely guilty.

 

Throwing a quick smile his way Jupiter pulled her chair forward. The drone of the hives was louder now and a few of the other customers had started glancing their way, trying to decipher the noisy girl and her odd-ball boyfriend, the one wearing a bulky jacket and beanie in the heat. The mother in particular looked curious. She scooped her baby out of his booster-seat and into her lap.

 

... Not that Jupiter knew the infant was a boy.

 

She pursed her lips and ignored them.

 

“What’s this about missing honey?” She nodded at Caine. “And why do you care? Don’t tell me I’ll have to do without it in my tea.”

 

“Oh, still plenty of honey to go around, don’t you worry your pretty, Entitled head.” It sounded like Kiza was moving something heavy. She grunted into the phone. “The other hives are all flourishing, we’ve got a whole pantry stocked up, I could even pull some right off the walls for you, if you wanted.”

 

“Ew.”

 

“But you’re not getting any from these guys.”

 

There was a shuffling sound then. The drone of the bees died down slightly, like they were all settling in and Jupiter grinned, realizing that Kiza must be dancing.

 

She’d only had the privilege of witnessing it once, but it wasn’t a sight she’d soon forget. Seeing Kiza standing before a cloud of bees, arms raised, turning in tight circles and obscenely shaking her ass... it should have been hilarious. In all honesty though, Jupiter had been rather enthralled. She knew from basic, 6th grade science that bees used movement to communicate flower locations, but young Jupiter certainly hadn’t expected to ever see that reproduced with a human body. She probably would have laughed if it hadn’t been for the sense of formality that had permeated the air. Kiza had a low, pseudo-telepathic link with her bees (“I’m not a bee whisperer, OH MY GOD”), but Jupiter was learning that she had something going on too, courtesy of being Entitled. She couldn’t ‘talk’ to bees like Kiza, but she could definitely sense when it was inappropriate to point and laugh.

 

... still. Great mental image there.

 

Jupiter looked up, still grinning, ready to bring Caine in on the joke. His expression was solemn though.

 

“Caine?” she said softly.

 

He ignored her, staring down at the phone. “How long have you know, Kiza?”

 

“Uh... two minutes? Hold on a sec.” There were more sounds of movement and Jupiter heard the drone change, rising and falling like the pitch of conversation. “Yeah, okay. Came out a second after Dad shoved the phone at me, routine check and all. Wasn’t expecting an empty hive. They say they produced a collection— ‘course they did, the can’t not—but here we are. Squeaky clean hive. Fucking hell.”

 

Jupiter had the distinct sense Kiza was holding up a frame they couldn’t see.

 

“So... what?” she said. “It just up and _disappeared_?”

 

But Caine was shaking his head. “The combs are still there?”

 

“Yep. Like I said, just clean.”

 

“Eggs?”

 

“Present and accounted for.”

 

Jupiter watched in fascination as Caine’s jaw tightened in anger, his fingers curling against the table’s edge. “Encroachers?”

 

“I’d bet your pretty set of wings on it.” Kiza’s voice had suddenly gone tight with anger. “I can’t deal with this shit right now. Hey, listen, I’ve got to go. Dad’s gotta hear about this, but uh... Your Majesty?”

 

There was a brief pause on the other end, like Kiza was gearing up for something delicate. When her voice came back it was remarkably tentative.

 

“Big drama in the Stinger family aside… dinner still on tonight? How many steaks are you bringing?”

 

It wasn’t hard to figure out what she really meant: Are we really going through with this? Am I meeting your family again, rebuilding what the Keepers took? Do I have to play nice with Kalique? Cool down Titus? Avoid an all out war? Are you really going to make me cook, like, fifteen steaks because you know Dad would burn them all?

 

Do you really think Balem will show up?

 

Jupiter crossed her arms and pursed her lips—like a very mature, young queen—and glared at the phone.

 

“You’re avoiding telling me about the bee kidnappings,” she pouted.

 

“I’m not. _You’re_ avoiding talking about this dinner. And the bees weren’t kidnapped, their honey was. It’s totally different. I’d be killing someone if they took my bees.”

 

“Who the hell _kidnaps honey_?”

 

“Encroachers,” Caine said, so straight-faced that Jupiter couldn’t tell if he was messing with her or not.

 

She wagged her finger angrily between him and the phone. “Now you two know I don’t speak Space. I don’t like it when you play gatekeepers.”

 

“Well I don’t like your face,” Kiza said. “ _How many steaks?_ ”

 

Jupiter threw up her hands. “Eight! I bought eight and bailed on telling Mom, okay? Kalique and Titus are still coming, far as I know, so feed them something and then kick them out. Chicanery and T’sing can stay for dessert.”

 

It wasn’t like she actually expected Balem to come.

 

It was fine.

 

Caine spotted the resignation and took back her hand. Jupiter shrugged.

 

“Good, Kiza?”

 

“…yeah, good. I’m giving them rare steaks to match their bloodlust though. 4:00?”

 

“4:00,” Caine agreed. “Tell Stinger to do a perimeter sweep.”

 

“Will do. See you in a bit. Oh, also I lied. You’ve got a great face, Your Majesty,” and Kiza hung up before Jupiter could retort.


	3. Chapter 3

 

Kiza now offline, Jupiter looked up to find Caine nodding enthusiastically.

 

“Your face is wonderful.”

 

“Uh huh. Bee encroachers?”

 

“Very symmetrical and free of blemishes.”

 

“ _Caine_.”

 

“Yes, Your Majesty,” he said, barely bothering to look chastised, the ass. “It’s really not for you to worry about though. They’re…” Caine thought a moment before finally lifting his hands in surrender, leaning back and tilting his head to the sky. “They’re just _encroachers_. Hooligans. They can be any species and they’ll band together for the sake of a payoff, if it’s big enough. They get their name because they don’t always take anything. Sometimes it’s enough to come back with information. The layout of an estate, the people, bits of a conversation…” he shrugged, but the easy movement didn’t jive with his expression. “They’re scum, Your Majesty. The lowbrow crooks of the galaxy.” With a sigh Caine leaned forward again. “The runts of litters often fall into their league.”

 

“Oh,” Jupiter murmured. “Did you…?”

 

“No. But only because I’m stubborn.”

 

“You _are_ very stubborn. And silly. Did you really just say ‘hooligans’?”

 

“I did. Shall I repeat it?”

 

“Nah. That was one time brilliance. Though I do wish I’d gotten it on tape.”

 

“Your memory will have to suffice.”

 

“Mmm.”

 

Their hands were clasped, thumbs stroking in synch over one another’s skin. Jupiter needed this right now. Especially since that couldn’t be all to the story.

 

“Maybe I’m just dense,” she said, “but I didn’t think _honey_ sold for much on the intergalactic black market nowadays.”

 

“It does when the rest of the stuff in Stinger’s house is shit.”

 

“Great deflection, but a deflection nonetheless.”

 

Caine sighed. “My apologies.” He took another moment to gather his thoughts. “Honey can have value, comparative value, especially when it’s made by splices like Stinger. But overall…?” His brow furrowed. “I don’t know why encroachers would bother with it. You’re right. It’s not something they’d normally go after, especially when it was produced by Earth’s inferior bees. No offense.”

 

“None taken,” Jupiter said drily. She gnawed at her lip. “Maybe they were looking for something else?”

 

“Perhaps.”

 

“Or it wasn’t encroachers at all?”

 

“Perhaps.”

 

“Or Kiza actually took it for herself to throw at annoying guys who respond with ‘perhaps’ to every damn thing.”

 

“... Perhaps.”

 

Jupiter whacked Caine over the head. This was good. Cathartic even. Except when Jupiter leaned forward her legs brushed the bags of groceries again and she sighed. They could really only put this off for so long.

 

“Who cares about honey,” she groaned. “We’ve got bigger fish to fry.”

 

Caine titled his head curiously. “I thought we were making steaks.”

 

“If you are then you’d best get them inside.”

 

The two of them turned, surprised by the voice and the woman suddenly standing at their shoulder. Jupiter blinked, recognizing the mom with the infant. Obviously. Considering she was holding him. She still didn’t know if the kid was a boy, sure, but up close he had tiny blue shorts on and something inside Jupiter clenched.

 

The woman smiled awkwardly, hefting her child and the baby bag slung over her other shoulder. Other than the strands of hair sticking to her face in this heat, she looked stunning in a white sundress that contrasted with her dark skin. She let out an equally awkward laugh as Jupiter stared.

 

“Sorry. Rude of me to just wander over, but you caught my eye earlier and, well...” she didn’t have a hand to gesture with, but she nodded down at their bags where a carton of eggs and wrapped meat were visible on top. “Pretty sure that’s spoiled by now.”

 

Caine stared at Jupiter in turn, begging her to take control of the situation. For a highly trained warrior he had a tendency to panic when everyday folks caught on. He tugged at his hat self-consciously. 

 

“Yeeeeeah,” Jupiter drawled. “Our bad. We lost track of time,” and she took up Caine’s hand again.

 

The woman smiled. “My wife and I are the same. More than one burned dinner, you know?”

 

“Oh I know.”

 

The kid took that moment to give a sharp cry, squirming uncomfortably. Jupiter got to see a pro at work then as the woman deftly juggled her own luggage, pulling her child up higher onto her shoulder... right in time for him to spit all over her nice white dress. She merely rolled her eyes, even as Caine rushed forward with a napkin.

 

“Hazard of the job,” she laughed, bouncing now and shaking sweat from her eyes. She smiled as Caine hesitantly finished mopping her shoulder. “Thanks. I’d better get him someplace cool. Just wanted to warn you about your dinner.”

 

“Thanks for that,” Jupiter said, raising her hand. It was a universal dismissal... but she felt kind of sad watching the woman go and Jupiter didn’t need to dig too deep to figure out why. She sighed again, overwrought.

 

“It’s been less than a week,” Caine reminded her, softly. “It will get better.” He dropped the napkin of baby spit onto the remains of their scone and reached again for Jupiter’s hand. She snatched it back.

 

“You keep your baby cooties to yourself,” she quipped and stood, silently cheering as Caine rolled his eyes, looking relieved. He tossed a wad of cash onto their table as Jupiter bundled up the groceries. It wasn't as if she could have explained that their purchases were kept at optimal temperature due to the handy little alien tech she’d shoved down the side. Jupiter gave the device a firm pat through the paper.

 

“Enough moping,” she said. “The day’s too nice, we’re too awesome—”

 

“Agreed.” Caine smirked.

 

“—and we’ve got friends to feed. You drive? I need to give Mom a call.”

 

“What will you tell her?”

 

“That I’m having dinner with friends, what else?” Despite her declaration that mopping was over, that last bit came out more bitter than Jupiter would have liked. The Keepers’ ability to erase memories was all well and good—it had certainly saved their asses more than once—but Jupiter was only just starting to learn that their abilities weren’t an exact science. They couldn’t erase down to a specific hour, or if they could they weren’t willing to try. Standard procedure seemed to be to erase the last twenty-four hours surrounding the Incident.

 

All well and good when you didn’t want your family knowing about your kidnapping... or your spectacularly failed trip to a fertility clinic. Not so great when you’d actually made some progress in explaining all this craziness.

 

Jupiter felt a pang that so much had been erased from her family’s memories. Sure, the dinner had been a bit of a disaster (was there anyway it couldn’t have been?) but at least it had gotten introductions out of the way. They’d finally met Caine... along with Stinger, Kiza, T’sing, even Chicanery and Guano, two splices Jupiter had never expected to invite into her home. In many ways that dinner had backed Jupiter into a much needed corner. It had raised a tidal wave of questions in her mom’s mind that at some point she’d have to answer. Who exactly are these odd looking people? How did you meet them? Why do you have a _child_ with you?

 

At least Jupiter didn’t have to worry about that now. So…silver lining?

 

It didn’t feel like it.

 

“Enough, enough,” she grumbled. “Look, I’ll tell them, soon, but not tonight. Tonight is for dealing with the devil twins and maybe coercing Kiza into making rice-krispies after everyone else has left. Those magical, marshmallow squares are _mine_.”

 

Caine certainly didn’t dispute Jupiter’s right to food. “Devil twins? Titus and Kalique aren’t—”

 

“Figure of speech.”

 

“... ah. Apt.”

 

“Hell yeah. Pun intended. Let’s get out of here before—Caine?”

 

He was staring off her left shoulder again and Jupiter turned, finding another woman approaching and trying to catch their eye. She was just about to joke that they were pretty popular today huh, when she also caught sight of the woman’s red hair. Not just on her head…but on the ears sticking out of said head and the tail whipping elegantly behind her. Dressed in a business suit of impeccable taste, she strolled towards them with complete confidence in her looks—even the alien parts.

 

Caine let out a curse in a language she couldn’t place, low and furious.

 

“This can’t be good,” Jupiter agreed. Still, she surged forward to meet the approaching splice.


	4. Chapter 4

People were definitely staring at the trio and yep, shit, whispering now too. Luckily most seemed to be under the impression that there was a con going on somewhere nearby, or that the splice thought Halloween had come months early… or that she was just weird. Jupiter felt a sudden, overwhelming gratefulness for all those furries and folks who liked looking like real animals. It made brushing this off a whole lot easier. Whatever ‘this’ was.

 

“Queen Jupiter Jones?” the woman said, a fox splice apparently. The way she said Jupiter’s name made it clear there was no real confusion about who she was speaking to.

 

“Amy,” Jupiter said, overly loud. “How great to see you again! Why don’t we talk in the shade...?” She and Caine flanked her on either side, Caine doing his best to block out the view of her tail, at the very least. He had a hard look in his eye—the woman in turn had gold irises, Jupiter could now see—and she heaved out a sigh because really, this was not what she needed today.

 

They ended up under a tree across from the cafe they’d just vacated, scaring off some poor guy with his book when he saw Caine. “Nice hat,” he said in passing, maybe trying to prove to himself that he could be brave, but he sure as hell beat it quick after that. Jupiter was too busy keeping an eye on the splice and shoving her into the shadows to hide her appendages.

 

“You know,” Jupiter drawled, “we try for a _bit_ more subtly around here.”

 

“Do you? Keeper reports say otherwise. As does dragging your pet out in this heat.” The woman’s eyes slid towards Caine’s outfit.

 

Jupiter narrowed her eyes.

 

“How about we just skip to the part where you explain what the hell you want so we can all get on with our lives?”

 

“An excellent idea, Your Majesty.”

 

She pulled what looked like a small iPad out from the inner pocket of her suit, flicking painted nails over the screen. Jupiter let herself marvel for a minute—seriously how did she navigate that thing with acrylic?—before reminding herself that all Unknown Alien Entities were to be treated with Respectful Suspicion until they proved themselves one way or another. Jupiter didn’t know for sure if that was an official Entitled rule, but she wouldn’t be surprised if it was. Chicanery could probably tell her.

 

Something to ask about later.

 

Caine was thumbing the blaster in his pocket when the woman finally flipped her pad.

 

“Please don’t make me sign anything,” Jupiter sighed.

 

But the woman just shook her head, gesturing expansively at the screen. There, in flowery script was what Jupiter could only assume was an invitation. She spotted a date and time in the middle (today actually) before her eyes narrowed in on the top paragraph. The text was stupidly hard to read.

 

Jupiter pursed her lips. “ _The Entitled Kalique_ —aw hell— _Kalique Abrasax, First of her Name, First Daughter, Second Child and Secondary Heir to the Abrasax Empire, Third Councilor_ —how long is this going to go on?”

 

The woman bowed her head, but Jupiter had the distinct impression that she was amused. “My apologies if Your Majesty finds the formalities tedious. You have my deepest sympathies.”

 

Jupiter snorted. “I’m sure I do. Right,—Third Councilor, blah blah blah hereby courteously invites Her Majesty to attend a simple dinner at 8:00pm (as per the Homo Sapiens time management system) at Lady Kalique’s humble estate on Dithor IV—holy shit she really lays it on thick. What the hell is this?”

 

“An invitation,” the splice said, blinking golden eyes innocently. Jupiter didn’t buy it for a second.

 

She glanced at Caine and, sure enough, he had that _Look_ still plastered on his face. The one she caught a glimpse of whenever someone was shooting, stabbing, or otherwise dropping Jupiter off roof tops. She’d fondly come to think of it as his Activation Mode, Terminator style. _Defensive maneuvers engaged! Protect the Queen at all costs!_

 

Basically, the poor tree they stood under was about to be watered with blood if she didn’t act quickly.

 

“You know,” Jupiter said, “this isn’t the first time Kalique has sent a splice to kidnap us. Not even the first time this week.”

 

If possible, the splice’s eyes grew even wider. “Kidnap?” she whispered (and Jupiter just barely restrained herself from rolling her eyes). “That’s not at all what Lady Kalique intends—”

 

“Save it,” Caine snapped and Jupiter grinned as much at the order as she did his use of slang.

 

“Yeah,” she repeated. “Save it.”

 

To both their surprise the woman did. She’s been formal before, but now she straightened even further, back ramrod and no longer posed like a confident. Those eyes sharpened and when she smiled it was a smile of all teeth.

 

“Very well,” she said. “This isn’t anything... nefarious going on, I assure you. Lady Kalique sent me all the way to this,” she paused, eyes scanning the patrons, complete with frat boys and shrieking kids. “... _unique_ planet with the express intention of making sure you, Queen Jupiter, join her for dinner tonight. That is all. Although,” she shrugged, a delicate lift of expertly tailored cotton, “Lady Kalique did make it clear that she wouldn’t appreciate a ‘no,’ despite this _technically_ being a request.”

 

“It’s always about the technicalities,” Jupiter muttered, snatching the iPad-thingy right out of her hands. The splice let her, smiling in an infuriatingly calm manner. Meanwhile Jupiter scanned the whole thing again, making sure there weren’t any hidden agendas or clauses or something. Silly, of course... except not. If anyone managed to slip something awful and legally binding into a dinner invitation, it would be an Abrasax.

 

More specifically, it would be Kalique.

 

In truth though, Jupiter wasn’t feeling nearly as antagonistic towards her as she had a few months past, nearly as infuriated by Kalique’s lack of action as she’d been with Balem and Titus’ choices. As far as Jupiter was aware, they’d both been nothing but helpful in the little adventure to get Balem back to normal. Surprisingly so. It wasn’t that she trusted them... more that she didn’t have quite as much reason anymore not to.

 

It was an iffy, in-between space.

 

Besides, Jupiter didn’t think she’d ever get that image out of her head: those two desperate, shocked expressions when she’d leaned down to give them a kiss.

 

Without quite realizing what she was doing Jupiter had begun rubbing at her head, trying to ward off whatever headache was barreling her way. A massive hand settling on the back of her neck brought her back to the present.

 

“Kalique was already supposed to come here,” Jupiter sighed. “What? She decide that Earth was too middle class for her?”

 

The woman pursed her lips. “Oh, she merely though you’d all be a little more comfortable in one of her homes. And I certainly wouldn’t say your planet was ‘middle class’...”

 

Jupiter raised a finger, finally pointing it at Caine. “Pretty sure we were just insulted.”

 

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

 

“Your answer?” the splice insisted, taking back her tech. Jupiter really _was_ insulted when she seemed to be typing out a confirmation before Jupiter had said a thing.

 

“...yes,” she growled.

 

“Splendid! 8:00 then. Lady Kalique is greatly looking forward to your company.” And just like that the splice turned on her heel and walked away, tail swishing arrogantly behind her, the fur all bushed up around the tip. It was such a goddamn dismissal that Jupiter had already taken a step forward and opened her mouth before Caine could stop her.

 

“ _Hey!_ ”

 

The woman turned—as did most of the other customers. Jupiter deliberately relaxed her stance.

 

“What’s your name?”

 

Whatever she’d been expecting Jupiter to say, it certainly wasn’t that. The woman rocked back a moment in shock. She opened her mouth, closed it, before finally saying, almost too quiet to hear:

 

“Carmine.”

 

“That’s a lovely name.” Jupiter made sure that when she smiled _she_ didn’t show any teeth. “Bye, bye now.”

 

She grabbed hold of Caine’s jacket and tugged him away.

 

Jupiter didn’t look back at Carmine—that would really ruin the moment, wouldn’t it?—but she was curious as to how she’d gotten here and whether her exit would be as disruptive as her entrance. Where the hell did they even hide all these alien ships? Was there some sort of cloaking device? Invisible transporter beams? A deep space ride share?? Jupiter shook her head, determined not to fall down that technologic rabbit hole—at least not without Diomika there to explain it all. The important thing was that when she did look again Carmine was gone and everyone had gone back to their daily tasks, no more suspicious of extraterrestrial life than they’d been ten minutes before.

 

Except maybe for the kid with the book. He was suddenly standing right beside them, wide-eyed at what Jupiter now realized was a clear case of eavesdropping.

 

“I thought you said her name was Amy...?” he whispered.

 

“Get,” Jupiter hissed. She grabbed him by the shoulders, spun, and gently pushed him in another direction. “Remember the big, scary boyfriend? Go on!”

 

This time the kid actually went, running pelt-out through the crowd while sneaking glances behind him. He’d either convince himself that he’d been imagining things, or become the next big conspiracy theorist.

 

Hell, maybe he’d get a book deal someday. Jupiter wished him the best of luck.

 

She felt a tentative hand on her arm. “Caine?”

 

“You continue to astound me,” he said, with so much sincerity and awe that Jupiter felt her cheeks flaming under the mid-day sun.

 

“Uh...?”

 

Caine just continued though, oblivious. “Individuality is not a common gift for us splices, and one that is rarely granted by Entitled. Only those in superior positions can expect their masters to know their names and a grunt such as her would have never—”

 

“Caine,” Jupiter interrupted. She placed her hand over his. “You realize I asked that because I _knew_ it would throw her, right?”

 

“Yet you would have asked regardless.”

 

Well yeah, maybe. Still. Jupiter was sure she went another three shades darker at the confidence in Caine’s voice. Basically the color of Carmine’s tail.

 

She coughed, bringing their linked hands to swing down by her side. “And she was...?”

 

“A fox splice, Your Majesty.” All at once the fond teasing teasing left Caine’s voice. He stared at the spot where Carmine had stood, brow furrowed. “They, like the rat splices of Chicanery’s breed, are known for their efficiency, but also their cunning and trickery. If Lady Kalique sent her personally than she wanted to ensure that we accepted her invitation, regardless of what it might take to secure it.”

 

Jupiter scoffed. “She’ll be glad to hear that we’re pushovers than. Man, I want Guano back. This is basically that goddamn cinnamon roll meme.”

 

“The...?” Caine tilted his head, brow furrowed.

 

“You know! Guano looks like she could kill us but is actually a cinnamon roll. Carmine looks like a cinnamon roll but could probably kill us? Caine. C’mon. You’ve spent hours watching me browse this shit online.”

 

“Yes, though I still don’t understand what Kalique’s servants have to do with Earth baked-goods.”

 

Jupiter pinched the bridge of her nose, fighting a smile. Trust in Caine to supply the humor. Even on a day like this.

 

“You have the food?” she asked.

 

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

 

“Great. C’mon then. We’ll have another pop culture lesson on our way to Stinger’s.”


	5. Chapter 5

There was definitely some kind of lesson going on, with Taylor Swift on the radio and Caine pulling unique, un-categorizable expressions in the driver’s seat. He could complain all he wanted about illogical Earth trends, but Jupiter didn’t miss his foot bobbing lightly on the gas peddle, or how his ears perked forward when the radio host gave the song title for the second time. Stifling a grin, Jupiter made a mental note to get him an iPod for his birthday.

 

Hmm. Birthdays.

 

She blew out a breath then against the passenger-side window. Jupiter leaned her head on the glass and for a moment just let the fields and corn blur together in a mess of tan and green, dizzying enough that she eventually closed her eyes against the onslaught. When she opened them again, Jupiter did her very best to keep her voice steady.

 

“When was Balem born?” she asked.

 

There was silence from Caine. If he disapproved of her line of thinking he didn’t voice it. Rather, when Jupiter finally mustered up the courage to look he appeared only pensive... and worried too. The exuberant “Uptown Funk” filled the car and Caine turned it off with a snap.

 

“It’s complicated, Your Majesty,” he said, equally quiet.

 

Jupiter just waited and sure enough - as they passed a stop sign with caricature alien drawn on it, no less - Caine spoke again.

 

“You know he’s old,” he said, testing the waters. “Very old.”

 

“Older than fourteen thousand,” Jupiter murmured, remembering Kalique’s little info dump all the way back at the start. Honestly, Jupiter was still trying to wrap her mind around that. Fourteen _thousand_ and four. Nearly a hundred and fifty human lifetimes, if you lived past ninety. Here Jupiter was insisting to her mom that she was an adult, thank you very much, and Kalique was... what was that math now? God, over five-hundred and sixty times older. Older than whole civilizations - by a huge margin. It was mind boggling. Literally. Jupiter pressed her forehead back against the glass and recalled something she’d read years ago, about how the human mind just wasn’t built to understand exceptionally huge numbers. Something about experience and perception. After all, no one was _meant_ to live that long.

 

“Your Majesty?”

 

Jupiter pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m here. Okay. Complicated? Weird, crazy... yeah, I get all that, but complicated?”

 

Caine nodded. “Tell me, what’s the oldest story you Earthlings have?”

 

“Uh... The Iliad? No. Gilgamesh? Ah hell, I never was any good at English.”

 

For the first time in an hour Caine’s eyes crinkled; his version of a laugh. “Never mind. The point is your researchers don’t know exactly when they were written, correct? There are theories, but...”

 

“We don’t have the records,” Jupiter finished. She bit her lip, starting to see where Caine was going with this. “So we don’t _know_ how old he is?”

 

“Yes.” Caine’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “You have to understand, Your Majesty, that the Abrasax family has always been private. Tightly controlled. But more than that they’re _ancient_. Your parents, grand-parents, back and back and back... they’ve had a finger in every civilized galaxy as long as anyone can remember. Yes, there are stories of how one day, long past, Queen Seraphi engineered an heir to help her maintain control of her ever-growing empire, but they’re just that. Stories.”

 

“More like legends,” Jupiter said, too much slotting into place. She couldn’t help but compare the excitable, bubbly six-year-old Balem to the inhuman Kalique and Titus. Oh, they were excellent at hiding it. There were even moments where she believed they generally experienced surprise or pleasure, but for the most part she’d seen only that dead look in their eyes. Kalique—continually moving forward out of sheer desperation. Titus— completely still in contrast and utterly bored. No. It was even more than that. Jupiter wasn’t sure a word existed to describe their lives.

 

Having forever to explore the wonders of space had always been Jupiter’s dream, but she was also well aware of what routine could do to a person.

 

It ate at you and gave very little back.

 

Jupiter suddenly leaned forward, pressing at her eyes and kicking her knees up into the glove compartment. She let out a hollow laugh. “Shit. I just wanted to know when his birthday was.”

 

“So you could celebrate it?” Caine asked, voice torn between curiosity and incredulity.

 

“Yes? No? Hell, I think I just wanted to know something normal about him, that’s all.”

 

“...there’s nothing ‘normal’ about any Abrasax, Your Majesty.”

 

Truer words never spoken. Still, Jupiter forced herself to straighten and cocked an eyebrow at Caine. “Even me?”

 

His eyes crinkled again. “Especially you.”

 

“Good to hear.”

 

She turned the music back on.

 

***

 

The rest of the drive was familiar; in more ways than one. Working to put Balem from her thoughts even for a moment, Jupiter called up her mom and in that sweet, persuading voice admitted that she wouldn’t be home for dinner. The whole conversation was basically a repeat of what Jupiter had been doing for nearly a week now, gently poking and prodding at her mother’s mind to see what the Keepers had left her with. It wasn’t much. Whatever science they used to erase memories was far from perfect and Jupiter suspected that the whole 24 promise was more propaganda than anything else. She had vague memories of a strange, sickly man showing up in her kitchen, of her daughter sneaking out at night and a frantic phone call the next morning... but nothing more than that. Certainly nothing like her child having a child of her own.

 

Jupiter really wasn’t sure if she was grateful or not.

 

“Here,” Caine said when she was done, like Jupiter didn’t know the turnoff onto Stinger’s property by now, as familiar as any other home she’d ever had. With a nod and a stretch she had the door open before Caine had completely rolled the truck to a stop.

 

“Yo, Stinger!” she called. “Kiza! We’re he—!”

 

 _Smack_.

 

It was like running straight into a brick wall, or like having the wall run into her. Jupiter gasped as a sudden darkness enveloped her out of nowhere, blotting out the sun and sending her headfirst into vertigo. There was a thick quality to the air, and an overpowering sound. Jupiter almost wanted to slam her hands over her ears, if not for the fact that doing so would have sent her teetering completely off balance. Even standing stock still she felt like she was adrift for a good ten seconds—Caine’s muffled shout reaching her, tinged with just a bit of fear.

 

... Wait. Okay. That was a hint. If Caine wasn’t outright panicking this couldn’t be life threatening then.

 

Indeed, that little realization helped jog Jupiter back to reality. Nothing was hurting her. It was just dark and… strange. She began to take stock of the smaller sensations—the ticklish feeling on her arms, cheeks, and chest; the brush of fuzz everywhere else, how she _did_ recognize the sound, even if it had become distorted into something unfamiliar. She knew this. She was safe.

 

The idea of opening her mouth when something might slip inside made Jupiter’s skin crawl, but she still managed to part her lips just enough to get out a soft, hesitant, “Guys?”

 

The response was immediate. The darkness around her pulsed like a ‘hello’ and Jupiter relaxed completely.

 

“You scared the _shit_ out of me.”

 

Because of course this was familiar. She’d walked into a massive cloud of bees, so dense that they blotted out the otherwise sunny day. All of Kiza’s hives had to be out to reach these numbers, sticking close together, and indeed, when Jupiter raised a hand they thrummed with barely contained anxiety. She could feel the emotion within them, echoing back what she was feeling a hundredfold.

 

With a commanding gesture Jupiter raised both hands now and the bees finally parted, straight down the middle like the Red Sea... which nearly made her roll her eyes at all the drama. Like she was any Moses. Still, on the other side was Caine, Stinger, and Kiza, the three of them peering in with various expressions of shock and awe. The sudden sunlight was blinding. The bees settled around Jupiter’s shoulders like a comforting blanket.

 

Or maybe a royal cloak.

 

Kiza was the first to dare a step forward. “Your Majesty?”

 

“Hey, Kiza. Yeah. Alright. They’re... obviously upset about something.”


	6. Chapter 6

“This went from ‘kind of cool’ to ‘seriously annoying’... oh, twenty minutes ago?”

 

Jupiter irritatingly swatted at another cloud of bees (careful not to actually hurt them) as they made a desperate dive to try and burrow into her hair. Another batch was settling in all the crooks of her body (collarbone, beneath her chin, in the hollow of the backs of her knees), while still others seemed to seek actual skin contact, bypassing her already covered arms and legs to flit up beneath her shirt. Jupiter grit her teeth at the feeling of foreign bodies crawling everything, stupidly glad that her skinny jeans didn’t allow them to burrow anywhere _else_.

 

“Enough of you,” Caine growled, mimicking her swat with a lot less patience. Jupiter caught his hand and brought it into her lap instead.

 

“It’s fine,” and no sooner had she sighed it than the bees were back, landing wherever they could and taking whatever she was willing to give. Jupiter wondered if she looked somehow regal like this—or if she was just a cheap monster out of some low-budget horror flick.

 

Kiza’s expression suggested the latter. Her phone click-click-clicked as it took a million, horrible photos. No way was she buying her a better phone. This girl did _not_ need more storage space.

 

Jupiter thought about pointing out the obvious though, that there was no photo album to fill anymore. Or there was, but it was gone, and she doubted Balem wanted her to send updates. The mere thought of him painstakingly adding pages to the back of the book and gluing in new photos was so ridiculous it had Jupiter releasing a slightly hysterical laugh.

 

Kiza slowly lowered her phone. “You okay?”

 

“Not really.”

 

“Yeah. Yeah I feel that.”

 

The whole party was largely off kilter and a massive swarm of bees invading the living room was only part of the problem. Jupiter was high-strung of course, and Caine had a tendency to follow her in all things, even emotions. Same with Kiza and Stinger now that she thought about it, some hereditary loyalty rising to the surface as they honed in on their queen, and okay, shit, was everyone in a bad mood just because she was?

 

Three pairs of eyes stared at her intently. Huh. Maybe “I feel that” was less a common phrase and more a literal expression of truth. Jupiter mustered up a smile.

 

“Whoooo’s gonna explain what’s going oooon?” she sang.

 

Stinger sighed, throwing up his hands. He obviously needed to do something with them though, and without a weapon to point at a concrete enemy he just ended up fiddling with everything in reach: the throw draped across the couch Jupiter sat on, the edge of his shirt, a pencil he’d stuck haphazardly behind his ear. In the end Stinger settled on pouring her another cup of coffee even though Jupiter had barely touched the first.

 

That done he spread his arms. Whole strings of bees followed the movement.

 

“You’re more equipped to answer that than I am, Your Majesty. You say you were visited by a fox splice?”

 

Caine nodded. “One sent by Kalique. You think there’s a connection?”

 

Kiza snorted. “Between her suddenly changing the game and an attack on our house? Absolutely. Though what the hell would she want with our _honey_?”

 

“Nothing,” but Stinger’s hands made fists just thinking about it. “She has the resources to pull off a theft like that of course, she could hire any group she’d like, but why the hell would she want to? There’s no commercial value to it—at least not compared to her own vast wealth—and as for personal reasons...” he trailed off, shaking his head. “It makes no sense.”

 

Jupiter scoffed. “When has anything involving Kalique ever made sense?”

 

“The fact that she’s actually the most logical and methodical of the three is kinda sad. And by ‘sad’ I mean hilarious.” Kiza dodged Jupiter’s whack to the head.

 

“You didn’t hear anything?” she pressed. “Earlier?”

 

“Nope. Slept in, did my chores, went to do _more_ chores outside—” Kiza sent a nasty glare her dad’s way. Stinger challenged it stiffly—”finally got to the hives out back, called you, and discovered... that.” ‘That’ was clearly the missing honey, though Kiza made the absence sound like a foul addition instead. Like an enemy. Or no, something that grew. A _cancer_.

 

Jupiter felt Caine shifting on the couch beside her. She gave his hand another squeeze and was relieved to feel him doing the same.

 

“We’ll figure it out,” she said. “I promise. And not to make light of that situation, but...can we focus on one emergency at a time?”

 

“Dinner,” Caine said solemnly.

 

“Politics,” Stinger countered.

 

“Food,” Kiza finished. “Wasted. Which I am very happy to eat for you anyway.”

 

“You’re welcome to the steaks,” Jupiter sighed, like she didn’t already know that Kiza had squirreled them away for a late night snack sometime. The girl’s appetite was easily the most alien thing about her. “You’ll all come then?”

 

Stinger’s hand settled on her shoulder. “Don’t be foolish, Your Majesty. Where you go, we follow.”

 

She actually wanted to say something appropriately thankful in response, but the movement was—once again—ruined by a flash from Kiza and an exaggerated “Awww.” She raised her phone in the air as Jupiter rubbed at her eyes.

 

“I like this one,” Kiza announced.

 

“Good for you,” Stinger said. “Caine. With me. I won’t be going into another Entitled’s lair blind. Not again. Kiza? Entertain your Queen.”

 

“Sir, yes sir,” she said and as the two boys went off to discuss super cool space weaponry she threw herself onto the couch beside Jupiter. A massive cloud of bees rose up like a wave.

 

Jupiter carefully extracted a bee that had gotten caught in the belt loop of her jeans. “Can you make them go away?”

 

“I’ve tried.” Kiza actually sounded apologetic about it. “They’re really... just...” she blew out a slow breath. “They need this right now.”

 

“...and so do you,” Jupiter said, realizing the words were true as soon as she’d said them. Kiza was pressed shoulder-to-shoulder with Jupiter, much like how the bees themselves were seeking her touch. If Jupiter focused, she could feel the lightest tremble running through Kiza’s body. She lifted an arm and settled it around Kiza’s back. The younger girl nestled there, vulnerable.

 

“It probably seems stupid to you,” she muttered, face now pressed into the fabric of Jupiter’s shirt. “Just honey, yeah? Got plenty of that. And sure, sure the bees themselves are fine, which is the important thing, but... it’s an invasion, you know? Someone was _here_. In our _home_. They took something that didn’t belong to them!” Kiza was trembling harder now and it had little to do with disquiet. “Ugh. I sound like dad. I know he’s super mad too, even if he’s better at controlling it. I’m a second generation splice. I love our bees, alright? But even I’m not connected to the spirit like he is.”

 

Jupiter’s fingers had found their way into Kiza’s hair. She paused there before resuming her slow, soothing movements. “Spirit?”

 

Kiza hummed. “It’s not really a religion, like you have here on Earth. You gotta remember its all tied up in our biology too. It’s more that we understand all the layers.”

 

“Like onions,” Jupiter intoned and was relieved when Kiza shoved her lightly.

 

“Don’t quote _Shrek_ at me. But yes, layers. Or—or connections. Like how one bee isn’t just a bee. They’re part of a hive, an ecosystem; they’re connected to you and to me. It’s the same with honey. It’s not just a food source, it’s something they _made_. It’s exploration and life and they always create more than they need so we can have some too and—” Kiza drew in a massive breath. “It’s just important, okay?”

 

“Okay,” Jupiter agreed. She sometimes forgot just how young Kiza was, not only compared to her but their group at large, everyone either in a genetically enhanced middle age or outright ancient. Kiza was the little sister Jupiter had never, but who she was thrilled to have now that she was here.

 

She also felt a little like a daughter.

 

Jupiter twisted her earring.

 

“Good talk,” she said, because Jupiter was nothing if not awkward when it came to heart-to-hearts. There was a little part of her mind that whispered, ‘ _I love dogs_ ’ and she firmly stuffed it into the deepest, darkest pit she could conjure up. “So… whatcha got there?”

 

Still curled against Jupiter, Kiza had her phone out again, though for once it wasn’t pointing and clicking. It looked like she was online, though what website needed such a violently blue background, Jupiter didn’t know. She shooed a bunch of bees out of the way to get a better view. Kiza helped by tilting the screen.

 

“Tumblr,” she said, like that explained anything at all.

 

“Tumbling?”

 

“ _Tumblr_. Don’t you ever waste your life online?”

 

Jupiter considered. “Yes, but you’re talking to the girl who grew up in a poor, super large family that always monopolized the one desktop. Also, excuse you, but I’ve been busy. Saving the world? Or did you forget?”

 

To Jupiter’s horror, an unexpectedly evil grin stretched across Kiza’s face. “Oh, I didn’t forget, Your Majesty. I documented it.”

 

“You—wait _what_?”

 

Over the next mind-boggling ten minutes Jupiter got a crash course in current social media, complete with the distinction between those parts of the website that humans had access too, and the sprawling, galaxy-wide network that catered to everyone else. Scrolling through pictures, news articles, and GIFs of funny cats was one thing, finding out that Kiza had been blogging about Queen Jupiter on the equivalent of Space Facebook was something else.

 

“You’ve made me kind of famous,” Kiza said, sounding infuriatingly smug about it. “My follower count _skyrocketed_ when I started posting these pics. I mean sure, we get the stupid anon or two, but pretty much everyone else is supportive. They want to _know_ you, Your Majesty. It’s the classic rags to riches story, plus you’re the first Entitled in, what? Ever, who isn’t a dick? You should totally start your own blog. Provided I help, of course.”

 

“Oh my god,” Jupiter whispered. Her finger felt numb as she scrolled through an endless stream of stories, questions, and, yes, pictures of her. Most of them were candid, shot when Jupiter had been otherwise engaged. There was one of her upside down on her bed upstairs, a half-piece of toast dangling from her mouth. She couldn’t even remember when she’d done that, let alone how Kiza could have gotten a pic without her noticing. The ones of her and Caine were particularly popular, at least according to the number of ‘notes’ each one had. Jupiter was torn between flattered and mortally embarrassed.

 

She scrolled down further and found a picture of her holding Balem. Jupiter snapped her hand back.

 

“You’d be good at it too,” Kiza was saying, oblivious. “You’re pretty, famous, and rich, the trifecta for getting a good following. Plus half of what you say is basically shit-posting, so.”

 

“Kiza—”

 

“I can—”

 

_Whoom._

 

Too late for talk: at that moment a massive crash sounded from somewhere outside; too short to be an earthquake, not quite large enough for an explosion. Still, it knocked Kiza back into Jupiter’s shoulder, the both of them slipping halfway off the couch and their cloud of bees scattering with worry. The two filled coffee cups splattered onto the carpet. The throw fell down across their backs. Jupiter ended up jarring her hip and watched as Caine and Stinger store sideways into the room.

 

_What now?_ was her first and completely justified thought.

 

Jupiter pushed up quickly, righting the boys in her vision. They looked ready to take on a whole army together. Which tended to happen when you carried whole armloads of weapons into the room.

 

“What the fuck?” Stinger growled. He’d already hefted something large and glowing blue over his shoulder, marching towards the door. Caine stopped only long enough to pull Jupiter to her feet.

 

“My thoughts exactly,” she grimaced.

 

“You’re okay?”

 

“Fine, fine. Do we know what—?”

 

_Whoom!_ Again, but closer and with a bit more... solidity. This time Jupiter felt the foundations of the house shake.

 

“Oh, but it’s never boring with you, Your Majesty,” Kiza breathed. Jupiter watched with a mixture of disbelief and respect as she began composing a new post.

 

“We’re talking about this later,” she said and grabbed them both by the arm.

 

Careful of what they might find, Jupiter, Caine, and Kiza followed Stinger out of the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The awfulness that is the second part of this chapter stems entirely from the fact that I had WAY too much fun creating [this fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8813659). My brain just decided one day that Kiza and Jupiter (and Caine...) were all tumblr trash, so obviously this must continue :/


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! Hope you're having a lovely week. Please take this chapter as a hump day offering. I mean, it's basically almost Friday... right??

Jupiter had gotten pretty good at crossing doorways. Oh, that was just a simple, stupid thing, right? Not in her world. Not anymore. Crossing doorways invoked memories of passing into the fertility clinic, breath short and hands clammy as she desperately tried to envision a telescope sticking out her bedroom window. It was walking through the sterile doors of a spaceship for the first time, fighting the enticing feeling that she was just dreaming—because that would get her killed. It was being ushered into the Apini household with no clear sense of who was friend or foe and ordering Caine out of her room on the Aegis; it was coming home to find that a madman had stolen her family.

 

It was walking into a palace and finding that the same madman had stolen her son away too, reverting back to what he’d once been.

 

Yeah, Jupiter knew a thing or two about crossing thresholds and she plunged through Stinger’s without a whit of hesitation.

 

Bring it.

 

The bees followed and instinctually Jupiter gave a mental shout for them to stay back. Surprisingly they listened, stopping right at the edge and coating the entryway, striped bodies thrumming from the roof to the floor. They kept moving though, just enough to create a steady buzz that helped to sooth some of Jupiter’s nerves. She could feel the bees acting and communicating as one entity, just waiting for her to give an order. To protect. Even die, if need be. Jupiter still had a hand on Caine and Kiza’s arms. She could feel their willingness to do the same.

 

“What the hell?” Kiza whispered.

 

It was oppressively hot in the height of the afternoon and at first Jupiter wanted to attribute that sticky feeling purely to the heat. She realized though that wanting a bath was probably because she needed one. A thin cloud of dust had risen up and was wafting over the house, covering everyone and everything in a fine layer. Jupiter coughed into her fist and tried to wave some of it off.

 

“Can you see?” she garbled, trying not to breathe too much of it in.

 

“Yes,” Caine answered.

 

“Can you _tell_ us what you see?”

 

“Yes,” he said again and Jupiter was about to whack him for his literal-ness when Stinger’s voice sounded a little ways ahead.

 

“Something landed out in the cornfields,” he called. Then, so quietly Jupiter almost didn’t catch it: “Why are they _always_ going after my corn?”

 

“A bee splice created at the height of our technologic age... who grows corn and uses a flip phone.” Kiza shook her head. “Dad ought to be ashamed.”

 

Her voice was light, but Jupiter didn’t miss the way she knelt slowly to the ground, retrieving the tiniest of blasters from her boot. Though small, Jupiter had little doubt that, like its owner, it would pack one hell of a punch. Caine pulled his own weapon from its sheath and together they inched towards the blue lights of Stinger’s gun.

 

Feeling lame, Jupiter scooped up a branch. She saw Caine’s ears twitch in amusement.

 

“Shut up,” she muttered.

 

“ _Shhh_.”

 

It was slow going. Jupiter might know the Stinger farm well by now, but not well enough to navigate it blind. She let the others lead and they all kept in a tight pack once they reached the first row of corn, Stinger waiting patiently for everyone else to catch up. The dust was beginning to settle, but none of them were tall enough to see out over the field. All they could do was keep inching forward towards where the dust was coming from and keep their eyes open for any danger.

 

Jupiter was all too aware of previous attacks in this place. In fact, she spotted a few dead ears that still bore scorch marks from the bounty hunters. She shivered.

 

Kalique surely wouldn’t go the kidnapping route again, right? Sure, sure, history claimed otherwise, but what was the point of sending a splice out to tell her the change in venue if she was just going to grab Jupiter and run? Seemed like an illogical way of doing things, and Kalique was nothing if not logical.

 

Manipulative, conniving, and often cruel, but logical.

 

“Everything’s fine,” Jupiter whispered, drawing it out in the sing-songy voice she adopted when she was nervous. “Totally, completely fine...”

 

Kiza made a Caine-like whine in the back of her throat. “Would you _stop_ that? You’re freaking me out.”

 

“You’re freaked out? I’m the one human here, armed with a goddamn stick.”

 

“And I’m the splice who watched _Children of the Corn_ last week!”

 

“Why would you do that??”

 

“Enough.”

 

Caine’s voice cut through their bickering. It wasn’t often that he used a stern tone with Jupiter, even rarer that he cut her off, so whenever he did it was worth paying attention. It usually involved saving her life. Sure enough, he nodded towards something just a few feet ahead of them that, if Jupiter had to guess, was probably dangerous.

 

“The hell...?” Stinger whispered at the same time that Kiza gave another groan, clearly not liking whatever it was she saw.

 

It took Jupiter a little longer to see for herself. Eventually though most of the dust had dissipated and the beginnings of a mount began to form. As in, the kind of mound surrounding a giant crater that had just appeared in their backyard. Jupiter stared open-mouthed at the loose dirt and bits of corn stalk, wondering what the hell had just landed here.

 

And wasn’t that hilarious: the aliens wary of things dropping from outer space. Jupiter released a nervous giggle.

 

Stinger kept his weapon at the ready, Caine at his side. Together they split off on either side of the crater, though they didn’t wander far. It was too deep yet to see what was inside and Jupiter was _so_ not okay with that.

 

She hefted her stick a little higher. “What’s in it?” she whispered.

 

“If we knew that don’t you think we’d tell you?” Kiza hissed back.

 

“No. Not really.”

 

“Goddammit, Your Majesty.”

 

“There was a ship,” Stinger said. Caine raised his head, sniffed the air, and nodded a confirmation. “That was the first boom we heard. It must have entered the atmosphere fast enough to bypass Earth’s defenses. The second sound was dropping... this.”

 

Jupiter dared to take her eyes off the crater for a moment. Stinger was tense beside her. “Wait, ships can do that?”

 

“Some. If they’re fast enough. Not many.”

 

“Well where the hell was the Aegis?”

 

“Off world until tonight. They’re a law craft, Your Majesty. I’m afraid that guarding you is not their sole duty.”

 

Jupiter felt a hot blush rising up her cheeks. “I _know_ that, I just—”

 

“Something’s moving.”

 

 

Indeed something was. It was just a slight movement, like a shadow, passing by in the leftover dust and dark of the crater. Whatever it was looked big though and Jupiter took an instinctual step back.

 

“Caine...?” she whispered. He was already there.

 

As was something else.

 

It happened too fast for her to follow, perhaps even too fast for Caine, because he wasn’t able to get between her and the thing in time. One second Jupiter was looking out over the crater and the rest of the corn, the next her vision was entirely obliterated with brown as something slammed into her waist. She was thrown off her feet, her useless stick flying off to the side. Jupiter landed hard on her ass with the wind knocked out of her—and something horribly heavy sitting on her chest. There was the sound of a gun going off, immediately followed by a grunt from Stinger as his own weapon kicked back. Two yells of fright and one of rage. Eyes squeezed shut, Jupiter listened to it all fly by in an instant. She felt hot breath near the junction of her neck and chest, the air smelled animalistic, she bent her knees in a desperate attempt to try and flip her attacker and—

 

“ _Your Majesty_.”

 

—and she knew that voice.

 

Jupiter’s eyes flew open. There was a split second as the terror spiked when she caught sight of a massive, hulking form and sharp teeth looming over her face... and then the form shivered; the teeth drew up into a grin.

 

“ _Guano_?” Jupiter breathed. The bat splice seemed to light up from within.

 

“You remember me? Oh, Your Majesty, I wasn’t sure if you would!”

 

“You’re... a little hard to forget—” and whatever else Jupiter might have said was cut off as Caine and Stinger appeared on either side of Guano, grabbing her roughly by the ridge of her wings and hauling her back. She let out a squeak, stumbled a moment before beating once, the powerful wind sending them all off balance. Jupiter gaped as Guano rounded on the other three, her grin no longer quite as welcoming. She straightened to her full height and haughtily eyed the gun Kiza had pointed between her eyes.

 

“You already know that feeble weapon won’t work on me, little bee.” Then Guano drooped a little. “I thought we were friends?”

 

“Yeah, not when you attack my Queen!” Kiza shrieked.

 

“Attack?”

 

“Kinda felt like an attack,” Jupiter wheezed before immediately waving them to lower their weapons. It occurred to her that maybe it wasn’t the best time to be making jokes. “I’m fine, okay? Everyone chill.”

 

Guano was tilting her head curiously. “How do you expect to greet someone properly without contact? It’s not my fault Her Majesty’s human body is so weak and fragile.”

 

“Her body is _perfect_ ,” Caine growled and then adopted two red spots high on his cheeks at Stinger’s look. He at least finally shouldered his gun.

 

“Bat splices do have a tendency to be... tactile,” he said. “Which you’d know if you’d bother to do your studies, Kiza.”

 

“Lame.”

 

“Wait,” Jupiter paused to cough into her fist. She stumbled back to her feet. “You didn’t know that already?”

 

“It’s not as if all splices know one another, or even much about one another’s culture. We are kept... fairly separate,” Caine said.

 

“Ah.”

 

Guano was nodding rapidly. “Yes, yes. Though I’ve gotten to work with lycantants before. You’re one of the few species capable of keeping up with mine in war time.”

 

Caine had gone very still. “‘Keeping up with’?”

 

Guano hummed and spread her wings towards the crater as if to say, ‘see?’

 

“Right,” Jupiter said weakly. “Because you jumped out of a ship. Cool, cool. Totally normal thing on this totally normal day. You mind telling me why?”

 

“Yes!” With a soft gasp of reproach Guano turned sharply and dropped to one knee, bowing her head and folding her wings. She looked up only long enough to make sure Jupiter was watching and then said, very solemnly,

 

“I, Guano, Splice #869B of Plait Industries, previously in the employment of Lady Kalique Abrasax, do hereby pledge my life and service to our Primary Entitled, First Recurrence, and Queen, Jupiter Abrasax, for now and forevermore.” Guano fell silent, finally peaking up again, albeit more hesitantly.

 

“You did say I could have a job, didn’t you?”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lovely readers! I hope you had amazing weekends. If not - or if you're just upset that it's Monday - please accept this new chapter as a pick-me-up :D

She kept thinking about fungus.

 

It was a strange and kind of terrible thing to focus on, all mushy parts and bright colors to indicate poison. Jupiter had never been much of an outdoorsy girl—she’d always been too focused on the stars overhead—but she knew without a doubt that she’d hate camping, that if she’d attended a public high school any environmental classes would have been a pain, and hell, she wouldn’t touch the mushrooms in her salad with a ten-foot pole. But here she was, imagining oozing, bulbous fungi in the comfort of Stinger’s home. Jupiter knew why too. It was one of the endless, cardinal rules passed down to her on how to properly clean a home:

 

_‘Never touch a man’s shower with bare anything,_ ’ her mom had emphasized. _‘Hands, feet—nothing! You’ll pick up their fungeses.’_

 

As Jupiter got older, wiser perhaps, she kind of wanted to interrogate her mom about that particular bit of advice. When exactly do you think I’m gonna be barefoot in a customer’s shower? What if it’s a woman’s? Is this a gender thing? And hey, are you going to bite my head off if I remind you that the English plural of ‘fungus’ is ‘fungi’?

 

She’d always chickened out though, mothers would do that to you, but it didn’t mean Jupiter had forgotten any of those useless rules that had been drilled into her head. This one certainly reverberated as she sat in the bath of Stinger’s modest shower.

 

Somehow, strangely, this felt more intimate than all the sleepovers and shared meals combined. It was necessary though, not the least because Jupiter was pretty sure she wasn’t going to contract any cross-species space germs from taking a load off. She’d gotten into the shower, turned on the water, and promptly decided that standing was just Too Much.

 

Everything felt a bit Too Much nowadays.

 

With a groan Jupiter rested her head on her knees, just letting the water pound over her back and push her hair into her eyes. The dust from their little excursion had long washed away and some of the tension Jupiter had built up was actually easing too. Stinger’s bathroom, like the rest of the house, smelled of honey, and if Jupiter strained her ears she could just make out the sound of him grumbling about his corn field downstairs. It was familiar and oddly soothing.

 

That is, until a massive crash sounded beside her.

 

“ _Shit_.”

 

Jupiter’s hand shot out, pulling the shower curtain aside just enough to stick her head through. She glared at Guano who had, astoundingly, managed to knock everything off the counter.

 

She paused in the act of reaching for a wayward deodorant stick. “Sorry,” she whispered.

 

Jupiter sighed.

 

It wasn’t as if she particularly wanted a seven-foot bat splice with a massive wingspan crammed into the bathroom with her, but sometimes things just worked out that way. Guano and the Stingers had gotten along famously when their biggest conflict was how best to embarrass Jupiter. When Guano proclaimed herself a new guard though? Well, things had gotten a little hairy. Or perhaps ‘fury’ was the more appropriate term, given present company.

 

_“You’re doing what now?” Stinger had said, voice oddly soft compared to his normally gruff nature. It wasn’t soothing though. Guano seemed to be the only one not picking up on the change in tone._

_She didn’t even spare Stinger a glance, just kept herself down on one knee until Jupiter made a frantic gesture for her to rise. And no, she definitely hadn’t picked that one up from Star Trek episodes where the confident, capable captains got to intone “At ease!” to all their subordinates. Jupiter was more of a Kirk kind of gal anyway: lack of formality all around. To her relief Guano stood immediately, though she still kept her wings and arms folded in the approximation of a parade rest._

_Stinger, Caine, and Kiza had all saddled up behind her._

_“You left Kalique?” Kiza said incredulously._

_Caine shook his head, clearly not buying it. “You were released by Kalique?”_

_“If that had happened she’d have been sent back to her brood,” Stinger muttered. Jupiter noted that he still had one hand resting lightly on his gun._

_Jupiter spread her arms,_ _a gesture of peace. “Oh hey, look, Guano is right here. How about we just ask her, hmm?”_

_Guano inclined her head in thanks. It was easily the most sophisticated gesture Jupiter had seen from her, and she could suddenly picture how a hulking, over-excited splice like Guano might serve someone as refined as Kalique. She could see it easily now, and it felt like the world titled on its axis._

_Then Guano grinned, teeth flashing, and everything fell back into place._

_“I wasn’t released,” she said. “And I didn’t abandon her Ladyship.” Guano glared fiercely at Kiza. “I was gifted to Her Majesty.”_

_What._

_“Gifted...?” Jupiter said slowly._

_“Yes! To you, of course.”_

What.

_“Dammit,” Caine muttered and caught Jupiter around the waist just as she blew a gasket._

_It was, in retrospect, not her finest moment, but there was only so much crazy a woman could take before she needed to let off some steam. Jupiter certainly wasn’t yelling at Guano--she was the victim here, right?—but she might have directed her frustration at the party more broadly, only dimly aware of them nodding compulsively like they’d heard it all before (which they had). Who the hell did Kalique think she was? (“An Abrasax, Your Majesty.”) You can’t just give away people! (“We’re not people, Your Majesty.”) Splices. You know I mean ‘people’ more broadly, Kiza. (“Yeah, I know, and it’s appreciated... but she can actually do that.”) No she can’t! (“It’ll be alright, Your Majesty.”)_

_It wasn’t alright and sometimes Jupiter wanted to rip her hair out at the blasé attitude of her friends—her_ family _. A part of her got that she was just one newbie trying to comment on a system they’d lived in their whole lives, that had existed for generations... a larger part just wanted them to admit that they were angry about it all, even once. Instead they settled on something in between: Jupiter admitting that temper tantrums weren’t going to get anything done around here; Stinger, Caine, Kiza, and a now confused Guano giving her kind looks for the tantrum in the first place._

_Even if it set her teeth on edge, Jupiter let Guano explain that, yes, she’d been gifted to her by Kalique. That she’d noticed how well the two of them got along and intended it as a gesture of goodwill before their dinner tonight. Jupiter asked sarcastically if she was supposed to give a gift in turn. Could it be a hard right hook?_

_That should have been the end of it. Kalique was obviously up to something, but there was only so much they could do here and now. And of course Guano could stay, serve, whatever... except..._

_“Her Majesty already has a royal guard,” Stinger had said, eyes narrowed. Guano had faced him with ease._

_“Oh?”_

_“Yes. Caine is her first guard, her_ mate _. I am her second. My daughter, her third.”_

_“Three’s a good number,” Kiza said._

_“So is four,” Guano countered._

_“I like four,” Jupiter said. Literally no one was listening to her._

_Stinger had come even closer, nearly nose-to-nose with Guano. “How do we know we can really trust you? That you aren’t still loyal to Kalique?”_

_“How do you know I won’t break you for suggesting such a thing?” Guano closed the distance, breathing straight across Stinger’s cheek. “Bats sometimes_ eat _bees, you know.”_

_“Oh boy,” Jupiter murmured._

 

“Shit,” she said now, repeating Guano’s choice of phrase and looking at the mess that was Stinger’s bathroom floor. That wasn’t going to endear him to the new addition. Guano was still frozen with guilt, grabbing onto that deodorant stick like a lifeline. With a sigh Jupiter pulled the shower curtain under her chin and tried to soften her expression.

 

“It’s fine,” she stressed, even though things kind of weren’t.

 

The four of them had continued bickering all the way back to the house in a manner Jupiter was more inclined to label as reminiscent of ‘sibling rivalry’ than ‘arch nemesis,’ but that didn’t mean it didn’t grate on her nerves. It just wasn’t cute when they had Kalique to deal with. First stolen honey, a fox splice in broad daylight, then changing their location, now Guano as a goddamn ‘gift’...none of it was adding up, yet all of it was turning Jupiter’s stomach. She’d padded upstairs to make herself presentable and had gotten Guano as a stray. Though Jupiter couldn’t blame her. Stinger had probably threatened her out of the living room with a spatula or something.

 

“I’m too big for this house,” Guano said, sweeping everything up with her wings and dumping it into the sink. Jupiter hummed an acknowledgement.

 

“I sometimes feel too small for this universe,” she said.

 

“You are rather small, even for a human.”

 

“Pff. Thanks, Guano. I think.”

 

Jupiter had never put much stock in modesty (sharing a single bathroom with a family as big as hers, she didn’t have the luxury), so she just left the curtain open a bit and finally got down to the actual cleaning business. She still didn’t bother to stand though, just grabbed a bar of soap (milk and honey, what else?) and got to work. Guano watched with detached curiosity.

 

“What’s she like?” Jupiter asked, soaping up her legs. Stinger had been kind enough to lay out a new razor.

 

Guano tilted her head. Long ears pointed towards her, just like Caine’s did sometimes. “Who, Your Majesty?”

 

“Kalique.”

 

“Oh! Well, she’s an _Abrasax_. She’s beautiful and rich and powerful and—”

 

“And encourages everyone to repeat those things about her,” Jupiter interrupted. “C’mon. What’s she really like? You can be honest.”

 

Jupiter wasn’t sure a splice like Guano, bred and raised for loyalty could really be ‘honest’ in the way she was looking for. Then again, bats weren’t known for their loyalty, not like wolves or bees, and Jupiter definitely caught a glimpse of... something in Guano’s eyes. She folded her wings, crossed her booted legs over the toilet, and leaned her whole bulk precariously over the edge. It put her just a few inches from Jupiter, though she experienced none of the tension she felt when Guano had faced off against Stinger.

 

“I can tell you three things, Your Majesty,” she whispered, “and you can do what you want with them. Yeah?”

 

Jupiter leaned forward as well, arms crossed over the tub’s rim. “Alright.”

 

Guano’s fingers were longer than a human’s, nearly black and so thin they could probably be used as weapons. She held three of them out, poised near Jupiter’s chin.

 

“One: I worked for Her Ladyship for nearly thirty years and she sent me on many, many missions, but she didn’t bother to learn my name, rank, or capabilities until she sent me after you.” A finger curled into her palm. “Two: The previous dinner we attended was the most relaxed I’ve ever seen Her Ladyship. And three: She may not have fought in the war as I have, but she is one of their fiercest warriors I’ve ever encountered.”

 

Jupiter nodded slowly. She could see that. Kalique had always fought with brains rather than brawns, and it made her that much more dangerous. “Thanks, Guano.”

 

“I’m very happy to be serving you, Your Majesty.”

 

Cupping her hand, Jupiter caught some of the water and flicked it at her. Guano spluttered, the fur on her face wet, clearly not knowing how to respond. Jupiter pinned her with a serious look.

 

“You know you don’t _have_ to serve me, right? If you don’t want to. You’re always free to go.”

 

“But I do! Want to be here, I mean. Not go. Not if you’ll have me.”

 

“Even if it rubs Stinger the wrong way?”

 

Guano grinned. “ _Especially_ then.”

 

“Figures,” and Jupiter flung a bit more water at her. Guano’s whole body ruffled and she ended up knocking more things off the counter. Jupiter finished washing as she cursed.

 

It was while she was re-rolling the toilet paper that Guano suddenly stopped, hunched her wings over her shoulders protectively, and seemed to hesitate about what to say next. When she did finally speak it was with her face turned away from Jupiter and the lines of her back hard as iron:

 

“Also, I... I’m very sorry about your pup,” she said quietly.

 

Jupiter shivered, the water on her back suddenly feeling cold. Yeah, she was sorry too. Sorry enough that she’d been trying not to think about washing Balem in this very room... though never so sorry that she’d get over how everyone acted like he’d _died_ instead of just growing the hell up.

 

Then again, if you lost every piece of who you were when that happened, was it really any different?

 

“God.” Jupiter tilted her head back and let the water pound against her eyes. “I’m...” What? There were too many things to say and not enough ways to say them. “I’m sorry for you too. The war.”

 

Guano took the peace offering, turning back her way. A bit of toilet paper was caught on her wing. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

 

“And if I’m owning up to my own ignorance here, uh... what war was that exactly?”

 

“Ha!” Guano smiled again, even if it was tinged with something darker. “That is funny. It’s a big universe, Your Majesty, and I’ve fought my fair share. The question you want is _which_ war.”

 

“...that’s not a conversation I need to have right now.”

 

“You humans say something else funny... yes! ‘You’re not drunk enough for this,’ right?”

 

Jupiter chuckled, nodding. “We’ll fix that one of these days.”

 

“Not me.”

 

“Wait, can splices not get _drunk_?”

 

“None of us can.”

 

Jupiter looked up, finding Caine standing ramrod straight in the doorway. He’d done away with his weaponry and stripped down to just a tank, jeans, and boots—looking mighty fine, if Jupiter had to put a label on him. His expression was a little sour though as he surveyed Guano and Guano’s mess.

 

He was also carrying a massive box which... okay.

 

“You,” he said to Guano. “Out.”

 

Guano deliberately looked to Jupiter. She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, go on. Go bug Kiza for me.”

 

“Of course, Your Majesty!”

 

Guano left—deliberately bumping into Caine on her way, turning to give Jupiter a wink—and then it was just the two of them, finally alone.

 

Jupiter stretched her legs and thought about fungi. She thought she got it now though. Something in her life was definitely growing... she just wasn’t sure if it was poisonous or not yet.

 

“Hey,” she said.

 

“Hey,” Caine echoed.

 

Jupiter beckoned him to her and, like always, he came.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO, FRIENDS. PLEASE READ. 
> 
> The short: the rating of this chapter is jumping up due to porn. Please be advised. 
> 
> The long: right. So I honestly thought long and hard about whether I wanted to write this chapter or not, for the simple reason that I don't generally include sex scenes. Why? Because I'm staggeringly BAD at them. That being said, I do believe that Jupiter and Caine are in a sexual relationship, I did corner them in a shower together, and the Laws of Fic practically demand that this go down. So for whatever it's worth, here's an attempt <3

“C’mere,” Jupiter said and like always Caine came.

 

She nearly snorted at her own inappropriate thoughts—and the puns at the core of them—but Jupiter wasn’t sure she wanted to interrupt whatever mood was developing with a twelve-year-old’s humor. It was like Guano’s exit had flipped a switch for the both of them. Caine’s expression smoothed out, Jupiter’s shoulders relaxed, and suddenly the hot bathroom seemed a whole lot more _steamy_.

 

Jupiter grinned. Goddamn the puns.

 

She crooked her finger, dripping water onto the floor, and pushed the shower curtain all the way back, only pausing to check that she wouldn’t actually flood the bathroom floor. Caine placed the large, white box on the toilet seat and tiptoed around the remains of Guano’s mess.

 

“What’s that?” Jupiter whispered.

 

Caine still had his fingers resting on the cardboard. His eyes were on her. “A dress. It’s from Kalique.”

 

“...are you fucking kidding me?”

 

Jupiter crammed her face back between her knees and in doing so missed Caine’s expression—but she definitely caught the chuckle. It was a rare thing and she cherished it, but she’d like that just once it came without such a worrying and ridiculous situation. Jupiter peeked out to see him toeing off his boots, his shirt, his jeans.

 

“It appeared on the front porch,” he said. Caine’s voice was quiet and a little echo-y. “She must have transported it down after Guano arrived, before leaving Earth’s atmosphere. Her ship is long gone.”

 

Jupiter’s mouth twisted. “Of course it is. Well, is it pretty?”

 

“Exquisite. I think she’s commenting on the last dinner’s attire, Your Majesty.”

 

“I really don’t care what Kalique thinks of my wardrobe. What about you? You prefer me in the jeans or the ball gown?”

 

“You... know what I prefer.”

 

Caine was naked now, as unabashed by it as Jupiter was, though the lines of his body still held a hesitance about being naked before _her_. Clothes gone he’d immediately knelt on the bath rug before, head slightly inclined, and Jupiter took a moment to just admire him. She’d heard stories over the last year, about what a lycantant was supposed to look like: tall as Guano, broader in the shoulders, legs like small tree trunks and a chest that could take on a missile. Jupiter couldn’t really imagine it, not when she had this little piece of perfection right in front of her, but she’d been told again and again that she could have more. _Should_ want more, especially as an Abrasax.

 

Screw that. Jupiter was quite happy, thank you very much, and she liked to believe that she had a decent enough heart that she would have loved Caine even if he was scrawny by human standards.

 

Not that he was—holy hell no—and the sparse chest hair he seemed so embarrassed by was the perfect patch for Jupiter to run her hands through, his ‘small’ shoulders exactly what she wanted to lean against. There’d been a bit of a confidence boost when he’d gotten his wings back, and not for the first time Jupiter wondered if she shouldn’t have encouraged him to keep them on more. Sadly those appendages weren’t as easy to hide as pointed ears. There was only so many times Caine could get away with a bulky jacket in this heat. He’d claimed with his usual, stumbling sincerity that he’d rather just be with her. If disconnecting his wings was the ‘price’ of that, then so be it.

 

Stinger kept them in the back of the house with the rest of the weaponry. Jupiter couldn’t help but think of a trophy from days long gone by, mounted on a wall somewhere. It made her feel guilty. But _that_ made her feel guilty too, because it wasn’t like Caine needed them. He was here, and gorgeous, and—

 

—and everything she wanted.

 

Caine was the runt of his litter. Didn’t they say only the best for an Abrasax? So hell yeah. Jupiter got the _special_ one. The freaking collector’s edition. Only one in existence, folks! read it and weep.

 

“Your Majesty?”

 

“…Caine,” she chastised.

 

He ducked his head. “Jupiter.”

 

“Atta boy. Here, there’s plenty of room.”

 

He didn’t need to be told twice (Caine never did) and he stood immediately, stepping into the bath with all the grace of an automaton. Jupiter swiveled so her legs were under the spray of the shower and pulled Caine down against her, guiding him between her back and the tub’s high wall. He settled there like a well-placed puzzle piece and Jupiter tilted her head back onto his shoulder.

 

They sat for a moment, breathing in synch. Caine lifted a hand to delicately brush a strand of hair from Jupiter’s forehead. He reached for the shampoo.

 

“You don’t have to,” she murmured.

 

Caine nuzzled the back of her ear. “I want to. Touching you is a gift.”

 

“Well jeez when you put it that way.”

 

Jupiter had closed her eyes and pretended, just for a moment, that they were a normal couple with normal problems to solve. She supposed, in a sense, that they _were_ all pretty normal... just with extraordinary twists. Everyone had awful relatives to deal with—they just didn’t have to put up with the ancient children of their recurrences, hell bent on killing, tormenting, or otherwise extorting you. Every guy, gal, and pal worried about bringing partners home to the parents—it’s just that their ‘bad boys’ didn’t include alien biology and technology that put the iPhone to shame. Still, it was reassuring in its way. Jupiter was attempting to rationalize it all... and then Caine’s fingers were in her hair and that became _so_ much easier.

 

Drama? What drama? Life was _fantastic_ right now.

 

“You’re good at this,” she slurred, slipping a little further down as Caine kneaded her head and neck. Jupiter could feel lines of shampoo slipping down her face, small handfuls of water quickly arriving to catch them. She was warm, and content, and might have actually been sleepy if she couldn’t feel Caine’s interest pressing against her back.

 

Jupiter grinned and arched, grinding him a bit and shamelessly calling attention to her breasts. She just caught Caine’s barely audible grunt, his hands spasming against her and slipping down to her chest, the shampoo making the motion both easy and playful.

 

“You’re exquisite like this,” Caine murmured, doing his best to lavish her neck with kisses between the words. His fingers teased around her nipples, tweaking one hard so Jupiter gasped. It was more the emotion than the sensation though. No one had ever called her _exquisite_ before.

 

Jupiter rocked in Caine’s lap, turning just enough so he could see her smile. “You mean decked out in another man’s beauty products, in his bathroom no less?”

 

“ _Your Majesty_ ,” Caine growled.

 

“It’s ‘Jupiter.’”

 

“It’s ‘Jupiter’ when Her Majesty stops being such a smartass.”

 

Jupiter barked out a laugh, the sound quickly morphing into a groan as Caine skimmed her stomach and lower thighs. She caught his hand at the last moment and held it under the spray, rinsing away the shampoo before guiding him back to the curls between her legs. Caine was emitting a low, continuous growl now—almost like a purr—and inhaling deep every few moments, as if he couldn’t get enough of her scent. He locked his left arm around her chest and slid two fingers in up to his knuckles, letting the water and Jupiter’s wetness do the work. She could feel how hard Caine’s cock was against her and Jupiter wanted to do something about that, but she was a little preoccupied with arching _up_.

 

“That’s good, you’re good,” she whispered, cutting off with another groan as Caine picked up the pace. He eased out enough rub at her clit and Jupiter hissed, mewling and scrambling at Caine’s thighs, digging her fingers into the flesh there. She wondered if she was strong enough to leave bruises. If he’d mind. Jupiter’s legs tensed, bent, tried to find purchase and she wondered why he wasn’t doing _more_.

 

“Caine, Caine move…”

 

It was an indistinct order, but Caine took it in the best way possible. Quicker than Jupiter could follow—quicker than a human certainly—he’d lifted her and reversed their positions, laying Jupiter fast but gently down the length of the tub. Her head just cleared the shower’s spray, the water pounding down over chest and splattering against her cheeks. Jupiter gasped, catching some of the water and sucking it from her lips. Caine paused only long enough to grind down a kiss of his own before scooting back, splaying his legs on either side of Jupiter’s, bunched up against the end of the tub. She was thinking that this couldn’t be a comfortable position when he ducked down and sealed his mouth where his hand had been.

 

“Oh _fuck_ —”

 

Never let it be said Caine wasn’t a quick learner, or creative when given half an incentive to be. He devoted himself to drowning in her with the same single-minded focus he gave to her protection; licking, nipping, nuzzling with abandon, as messy and feral as his genes supposedly dictated. Jupiter gave up on decorum, keening and digging her hands into Caine’s wet hair. She found purchase on the tub’s end and when Caine slipped two fingers back inside Jupiter clenched and began to thrust. Everything was happening at once—curled fingers and lips and teeth and the water hitting Jupiter’s breasts—and Caine was moaning like _she_ was doing all the work. It was his own little whimper of pleasure that finally did it, Jupiter coming with a gasp and shaking legs.

 

She rode it out, Caine licking in long, gentle strokes all the while. Jupiter eventually had to tug on his hair to get him to stop.

 

He sat back on his heels. Jupiter pushed the hair from her eyes and caught his gaze.

 

“Okay,” she breathed. “That was _good_.”

 

It was like watching a puppy get praised: exuberant enthusiasm no matter how many times it happened. Except, of course, that the puppy was a massive hulk of a man with a cock bobbing between his legs and really, one of these days Caine was going to let _her_ take care of him first.

 

Except that she saw the utter contentment on his face and wondered if he’d really let her win that fight.

 

“Look at you,” Jupiter teased. She sat up, a little shaky still, grabbing ahold of Caine’s legs just to steady herself, but the touch sent a shiver through his body that Jupiter felt all the way up to her shoulders. They’d done this before too and Jupiter knew Caine as well as he knew her. She could, as they say, play the game too.

 

“Stand,” she said, and Caine stood. “Hold still,” she said and Jupiter took him into her mouth, wrapping her hand around his base as Caine’s hips jerked minutely, a pained whine mixing with the sounds of the water. He didn’t thrust though, even if Jupiter could feel his muscles twitching in desperation. She wanted to grin—settled for a coy look up at him instead—and fluttered her tongue, tracing his underside and suctioning her lips as Caine grunted in response.

 

He was always so quiet when they did this; only the tinniest sounds emerging that never escaped the bubble they created together. One day Jupiter was going to unwind that tension all the way. Really make him _scream_...

 

Just, you know, not while they were in Stinger’s house.

 

Jupiter hummed a laugh and Caine gasped, his hands scrambling against the slick wall.

 

Their hosts could suffer a little though. All at once Jupiter took him as deep as she could without gagging, reaching up to grab Caine’s ass and finally let him move. He made an inarticulate sound that tightened Jupiter’s body, desperate and just this side of animalistic—completely and utterly _wrecked_. She swallowed in response.

 

“Jupiter, Jupiter, Jupiter, _Jupiter_ —”

 

Caine’s body went rigid, only training keeping him from becoming a puddle on the floor. As Jupiter eased off he collapsed onto the tub’s edge instead, panting slightly and gazing at her with undisguised affection. Jupiter spit into the drain and finally grinned, rubbing the back of her hand across her mouth.

 

“So,” she said. “How about me in that dress?”

 

Caine closed his eyes, muttering something about Abrasaxs being the death of him, and Jupiter choked on a laugh.

 

***

 

Sex was good. In all fairness though, this was possibly better.

 

“See, that’s just rude.” Kiza shook a wet towel at her before tossing it into the hamper, kicking clothes and books out of her way. “You drag us into this dinner, mess up the bathroom, and then have the nerve to look stupidly gorgeous in my shit bedroom? Nuh-uh. This is going to cause problems between us, Your Majesty. Mark my words.”

 

“I’m not gorgeous,” Jupiter said automatically. Except...

 

Kiza side-eyed her, sensing the hesitation. “You’re a freaking _masterpiece_. Don’t fight me on this.”

 

Jupiter stood in the middle of Kiza’s (admittedly messy) bedroom, the house’s one full-length mirror propped up against the bed. She kept staring into it, her mind not quite computing that it was her own reflection there, because really, when was the last time she’d worn something like _this_? It put Kalique’s original dress for her to shame. It had sophistication that Titus’ kink monstrosity couldn’t hold a candle to. Jupiter ran her hand lightly over the high, bunched neckline; the sheer, flowered material that barely covered her chest; a satin bow; light, flowing skirts that fed from plum coloring into blue... she felt a little dizzy. The material clearly wasn’t anything made on Earth and Jupiter wondered if you could somehow drug a dress.

 

Even her lack of makeup and wet hair pulled back haphazardly couldn’t detract from the overall look. She really was… beautiful.

 

Jupiter blinked slowly as Kiza snapped a picture. “I sort of hate how great this dress is,” she admitted.

 

“ _Right_? That’s some Kalique insanity right there: how many dresses before you forgive the war crimes? I don’t know about you, but I am _weak_ for clothes.” Kiza spread her arms. “Which begs the question: what am I supposed to wear?”

 

“Something that holds your weaponry,” Stinger said. He appeared in the doorway, Guano popping up behind him with a gleeful expression and a strange gesture that Jupiter couldn’t quite decipher. It seemed positive though.

 

Stinger just gave on a clipped nod. “You look nice, Your Majesty.”

 

“Lame, Dad, she looks _amazing_.”

 

“Yes, at the behest of her Lady Kalique. I don’t like it, Kiza.” Stinger paused. “No offense.”

 

Jupiter sighed. “None taken.”

 

They were right after all. This wasn’t dress up or prom. Kalique was up to something and Jupiter had every intention of finding out what. She shook the cobwebs from her mind, slipping on her heels and striding out the door. Down the steps, back into the kitchen. The bees converged around Jupiter, brushing her body like she was their flower, offering soft and soothing reassurance. She could hear Guano, Stinger, and Kiza still arguing upstairs. Caine was somewhere in the back, choosing his weapon with care. Jupiter stood looking like a queen in the middle of their living room, devoted followers all around her... and she’d never felt more like an ordinary girl.

 

A knock sounded at the door. Amongst everything, T’sing’s face was a welcome sight.

 

“Look at _you_ ,” she whistled. T’sing stepped back onto the porch and bowed dramatically, bringing the Ageis hovering over the fields into view.

 

“It’s good to see you, Your Majesty. Please, your carriage awaits.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jupiter's dress can be seen here: http://itsclydebitches.tumblr.com/private/159743599745/tumblr_oom0q2Ubgz1u4rmzk


	10. Chapter 10

Jupiter walked up into the Aegis and promptly felt like she’d entered an episode of the _Twilight Zone_. It was so disconcerting that she reached out, steading herself on one of the cold, metal walls.

 

“Easy there, Your Majesty.” T’sing’s hands came around Jupiter’s bare shoulders. “Do you dislike it?”

 

 _Dislike_ it?

 

Jupiter didn’t know what to think of it, because she’d expected ‘it’ to be the sterile, high-tech ship she’d traveled on months ago, the futuristic wonder that had saved her ass on more than one occasion. Instead, Jupiter had walked straight into an old-fashioned living room.

 

Not even a living room, _her_ living room.

 

“I just feel vaguely like I’m having a stroke,” Jupiter said. She missed T’sing’s chuckle, moving out of her embrace to step tentatively into the room. It was, impossibly, exactly like Vassily’s home, down to the drab walls and thin layer of dust. Jupiter’s heels sank deep into the carpet, which correctly looked like it needed a good vacuuming—he might live with three cleaners, but they weren’t much for free work and Jupiter was sure her cousin hadn’t picked up a duster himself in decades. The couch was appropriately ratty and when Jupiter pressed her face to the old throw draped across it, she could smell mothballs and her mom’s cheap perfume. It sent a pang of homesickness through her that she wasn’t expecting. Which was stupid really. She’d seen them just last night.

 

It was all different now though, wasn’t it? They still saw Jupiter Jones, their daughter and cousin, toilet scrubber extraordinaire, which was great in some respects... but she also couldn’t deny that she was just as much Queen Jupiter, collector of lucky breaks and bureaucratic insanity. Jupiter looked down at her gown and felt another pang. She didn’t look like she fit in here either.

 

“Whoa, get a look at this!”

 

Kiza came barreling up into the ship, dressed now in a clean pair of jeans and a pretty white top with lace sleeves. She’d pulled her blonde hair into pigtails and the whole effect was to make her look young—younger than she already was, anyway. Jupiter saw the unmistakable outline of a blaster under her shirt and wondered if that wasn’t half the point.

 

Caine and Stinger followed with identically raised eyebrows. Guano brought up the rear, her wings momentarily blocking out the sun. T’sing let out a happy exclamation at spotting her and as the two women embraced Kiza skipped over to Jupiter, snapping pictures that must have been blurry.

 

Honestly, Jupiter wasn’t _that_ photogenic. What ever happened to ‘three, two, one, smile’?

 

“Loving the contrast,” Kiza said. She pocketed her phone and made a frame of her fingers. “Title: _Gorgeous Queen in Hovel_. What is this place anyway?”

 

“Your Queen’s home,” Stinger said dryly and Kiza’s eyes almost popped out of her head.

 

She slowly lowered her hands. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

 

Jupiter just shook her head, oddly feeling better now. “Don’t sweat it. You’ve only seen the kitchen and our bedroom, right? The living room has always been a little more... shabby.”

 

It was true, though Jupiter hadn’t realized it until she said it aloud. They splurged on the bedroom because that was their place of rest and if you were cramming three women in there together it had to be comfortable, as soothing as possible and nice to look at. The kitchen, meanwhile, was the embodiment of their family—the space for food and conversation, the remnants of their culture after living here. But the living room? That was just a room on its own, a housing space for old furniture and toys no one played with anymore. It was a hodge-podge of things, colors, and textures. Jupiter ran her hands over the table she and Vladie had hung out at and acknowledged how random this space was.

 

Especially when it showed up in a spaceship. Fitting.

 

Jupiter spread her arms. “What is going on?”

 

Guano grinned at her, running past and launching herself onto the couch. It was like a tornado combined with an earthquake and Caine absently pat Jupiter’s hair back into place as went to set his weapons aside. Guano stretched out and got comfortable. She arched up to look at T’sing.

 

“It’s an interrogation room, yes?”

 

Jupiter stared. “You think my living room is _that bad_?”

 

“No, no Your Majesty.” T’Sing raised her hand imploringly while Guano cackled. Stinger just shook his head.

 

“Standard warship fare,” he explained. “Or police force, I suppose. Now that you’ve been demoted from the front lines.”

 

T’sing made a rude gesture his way. “This is my retirement, I’ll have you know.”

 

“You poor thing,” Kiza muttered.

 

Stinger tweaked her ear. “Like I said, Your Majesty, standard equipment. Space, as you know, is somewhat vast,” he adopted a vaguely sarcastic tone, “and it often takes a long while to transport criminals from wherever they've been apprehended to the nearest police post—if, of course, that post even falls within your jurisdiction. So, much of the work needs to be done in-route."

 

T'sing nodded. "It's not uncommon for the accused to go through the entirety of their trial by the time we dock. These ships are normally outfitted with lab technicians, judges, even civilians to choose a jury from." She gestured expansively to the otherwise empty ship. "It's a nice deal for them: the chance to explore space for the price of a public service they'd need to perform on their own planets anyway."

 

"But dangerous," Caine added. "They're rich fools looking for adventure. Then they sue when, shockingly, the police cruiser gets shot at."

 

Guano laughed and T'sing adopted an, 'well yeah, there's that' expression.

 

"The point, Your Majesty, is that this is indeed just a standard holographic system, though one designed specifically for interrogations. It's capable of re-creating any environment from the user's memory," T'sing laid a hand on her own chest, "and we use it to enhance our routines, create a sense of unease in the accused—or relaxation. Some simulations are even able to trick them into thinking they've escaped, or its all been just a dream. Humanoids will spill a lot if they convince themselves they're safe."

 

"And they _want_ to convince themselves," Guano said, a rather evil smile gracing her features.

 

Jupiter wandered over to the far wall where T'sing pointed. There, inside the cabinet that normally housed all their old board games was some sort of machine, no bigger than a toaster. It actually looked a bit like a toaster too: square, silver, though ingrained with alien symbols and tech she could never hope to decipher. Jupiter reached out a hand to touch...before thinking better of it.

 

"That still doesn't explain why you want to interrogate aliens in my living room," she said.

 

T'sing blinked. "Oh. I don't, Your Majesty. I only thought that this would help your family feel more at home. I saw this room briefly during our... negotiations with that Chicanery fellow and thought that it would be a more welcoming sight than the normal bridge..." she trailed off, looking around at all the averted gazes. "Ah. They're not coming."

 

"Nope." Jupiter shrugged in self-criticism. "I 1000% chickened out in that regard and honestly? Don't regret it for a second. Yeah. I know. Mom and everyone need to get the low down at some point, especially with the Keepers scrambling their brains every few weeks, but at least I'm not dealing with them on top of Kalique and weird Encroacher people—"

 

"Encroachers?" T'sing said sharply. Even Guano sat up, looking worried.

 

Stinger rubbed at his forehead. "I'll explain on the way. Come, we'll be late as it is."

 

As Kiza gave them the lowdown on her theory T'sing moved to the front of the living room, to the door that normally lead into the kitchen. When she opened it though there was a familiar windshield looking out into the cornfields and a series of complicated buttons that Jupiter recognized as the Aegis' steering. For a second she thought her mind was playing tricks on her until T'sing lifted a hand and suddenly the whole view changed from vertical to horizontal. The door was still there, it had just... shifted.

 

"Okay," Jupiter said. "That's cool."

 

"That's technology," Kiza countered. "You humans are so behind. Kinda like our cell service, _Dad_."

 

"Would you stop with that already, you're driving your Queen nuts."

 

Kiza leaned into Jupiter's side, rising up on tiptoe to whisper: "Am I driving you nuts?"

 

"A little, yeah."

 

"Awesome."

 

Of course, Jupiter wasn't an idiot. She knew what they were doing. Easy banter. Lighthearted questions. Let's move away from the topic of family, shall we? And Jupiter did appreciate it. She knew she wasn't being fair to Mom or her cousins anymore... but she was also getting a sense of how much she could handle. Tonight was for a rather different type of family.

 

If 'family' was even the right term. Jupiter wasn't sure anymore.

 

At least there was family right here. _That_ Jupiter could swear to. Guano tossed her a soda from the ancient mini fridge next to the couch and Kiza forced her to make room, fussing over Jupiter's hair and begging her not to spill Dr. Pepper on her dress. Stinger went to speak with T'sing—who kept the illusion up the whole time, for Jupiter's sake at least—and filled her in, as promised, on all the strangeness that had been going on—how none of them trusted Kalique as far as they could throw her. Caine kneaded Jupiter's thigh and confirmed that this was despite the fact that they could, in fact, throw her pretty damn far.

 

A pang ran through Jupiter at that. Just the thought that she might have been wrong... _naive_ in how much progress she'd been making with her and Titus causing an ache in her chest. If they were truly up to something, it would be a lot like losing Balem all over.

 

Jupiter pushed that thought down though, stood on shaky legs, and went back over to the cupboard. The games were still there behind T'sing's tech. Ignoring mind boggling thoughts about what she was touching if this wasn't really there (or what she’d been _drinking_ from that soda), she selected something to pass the time.

 

" _Yes_ ," Kiza breathed as Jupiter set the box down. "Hell yes!"

 

Guano snatched a card and sniffed it. "What is it?"

 

"Something you said you'd teach me," Caine murmured. Jupiter nodded.

 

"An ancient and beloved Earth past time. Well, not ancient, but definitely beloved. Brutal too. Prepare for civil war, guys."

 

Caine looked intrigued. Guano was practically bouncing in her seat. Jupiter called Stinger over and got T'sing to put the ship on autopilot. She set the box out on display at the front of their little half cirlce—Cards Against Humanity.

 

"Gimme the freaking 'Bees?' card," Kiza muttered, trying to sort through all the white as Jupiter slapped her hands away.

 

As she'd suspected, it was an excellent distraction. A memory to return to sometime. A little over three hours flew by and it was while Jupiter was trying to decide on an answer for "10% of adults admit having an addiction to..." that she looked up, catching sight of the planet ahead of them. The cards dropped from her hands.

 

"Wow," Jupiter whispered.

 

T'sing hummed. "Yes, Your Majesty. Welcome to Dithor IV. Wealthy, gorgeous... the perfect paradise."

 

"There’s no such thing as perfect," Caine said and Jupiter nodded. It certainly _looked_ stunning from way up here—

 

—but then, it was hard to see imperfections from so far away. An easy enough fix.

 

“Let's get closer."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record, someday this fic will be done and when it is I fully intend to write a 'JA crew plays Cards Against Humanity' one-shot :D


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A chapter! Rare and illusive! :D 
> 
> (In all seriousness though, I just got back from a conference so with that over with I should theoretically have more time to work on all fics, including this one. I'm so sorry for the massive wait <3)

As a kid Jupiter had watched every Sci-Fi flick she could get her hands on. Why wouldn't she? No funds for a telescope, no schooling for a career, not even easy access to a library for new books... the closest Jupiter could get to the stars was by seeing them on the big screen. Or rather, the tiny screen in their crap living room, soundtracks interspersed with frustrated Russian—but even that was something.

 

Now Jupiter stood in her living room again and had the biggest screen of all showing her paradise.

 

"I always chose the utopias," she said, quiet, not entirely sure who of the group she was speaking to. "Kinda hard to find in the genre, but they're there. I liked it when space—the future—was magical."

 

Jupiter felt the others nodding around her, but otherwise her eyes were still glued on the planet below. As the Aegis flew closer she saw more and more that caught her eye, dazzling it with pure, disbelieving awe. Whatever humans imagined paradise to be, it paled in comparison to Dithor IV and it was harder to keep hold of Caine's cynical comment. From their vantage point Jupiter could see cerise dunes that bled into multi-colored forests, which themselves tapered off into large swatches of water, crystal blue and curving over the planet like intricate lace. None of the colors matched what Jupiter had learned to be natural though and none of the features did quite what they were supposed to. In fact, the more she looked, the more uncomfortable she became with the image. Water in particular was strange. Banking down Jupiter could see waterfalls that were cascading _upwards_ ; rain clouds whose droplets glinted like jewels. When they landed they didn't dissipate, just piled up and up until whole swatches of grass had glittering mounds like dragon hoards. It was sensory overload and Jupiter found herself instinctually shielding her eyes, giving them a break from all the glamor and impossibility.

 

"It is a lot to take in," T'sing said. She pressed a button on the control panel and a thin, grey film covered the viewer. They could still see where the ship was heading—a massive, Egyptian-like palace that grew larger and larger with every passing second—but much of the color and lights were filtered out. Jupiter breathed a sigh of relief.

 

"Holy shit it's gorgeous, but this place sorta makes my head hurt." Kiza paused. "Guess that's what we'd expect from the Bitch Queen though, huh?"

 

No one took their eyes off the palace, though Stinger did lightly nudge Kiza in the back. "Language," he murmured.

 

"Holy _moley_ the Bitch Queen is extra."

 

"Your language is strange sometimes," Guano announced, "but you're right about Lady Kalique's motives. D-IV was built nearly a thousand years ago under her express orders. I've heard—wasn't there myself, of course!—but I heard that she wanted a place unrivaled in beauty _and_ peculiarity, something that her guests could marvel at while also feeling slightly ill at ease." A sly look had come over Guano's features. Jupiter watched as her wings stretched, preening towards the Aegis' ceiling. "Similar things have been said about my own species: we are as wondrous as we are disconcerting."

 

"Humble, aren't you?" Stinger said.

 

"No. Why would I be? It's better to state the facts."

 

"...sure."

 

"Well Lady Kalique succeeded in her goal." Caine was staring off at the right side of the palace where there was an entryway—until Jupiter looked again and suddenly there was nothing but smooth stone. There were four stories, then possibly five. The structure couldn't make up its mind how many windows it had. It was subtle, but nothing about the palace stayed the same for very long, and as soon as Jupiter noticed it she couldn't _not_ notice it, the craziness setting her teeth on edge. She could only image how Caine viewed this when it came to security, but when he spoke again his voice was steady. "This is incredibly advanced tech, Your Majesty."

 

T'sing nodded. "Everything from the botany to experiments in physics... I've heard things about this planet, Your Majesty, about people who become lost here, or suddenly return with unique and impossible riches. Many legends surround it, as they do all the Abrasax. I've never had the privilege of being invited here before though." She said 'privilege' with all the grace of a woman with a lemon wedged between her teeth.

 

"I have," Guano chirped.

 

“Good for you.”

 

Either way they were here now and the palace, larger than anything Jupiter had ever expected to see in her life, was finally bigger than what the view screen could take in and they began their descent down to the paved entryway. By the time the Aegis had settled and the steps had unfurled, Jupiter's whole party was waiting by the exit, all of them too keyed up and antsy to wait a moment longer. Stinger and Caine had their weapons strapped casually across their backs, Kiza stretched her neck and made her pigtails swing. T'sing wore her standard uniform while Guano was in her own usual lightweight pants and boots, her chest bare. Between the five of them Jupiter felt stupidly overdressed in her gown.

 

It didn't escape her notice though that she was the only one who looked like they belonged here. Kalique wasn't a fool. She did nothing on accident.

 

"Let me do the talking," Jupiter said. She laid a hand briefly against Caine's gun. "Remember, she's weird, but we are just here for dinner. A dinner _I_ recommended. As far as we're concerned they'll be nothing going on tonight except food and some pretty awkward conversation. Don't go in there blazing."

 

"Aye Aye, Captain," Kiza said and led the party out with her dad.

 

The strange color and texture of the world hit Jupiter again as she left the ship, but more than that she was nearly bowled over by the heat. There were immediate groans and grimaces as everyone plucked at their clothes. Guano began gently flapping her wings to give them all a breeze. Jupiter felt her feet slipping in her heels, slick with sweat. Still, they wadded through the grass around the palace and, when they reached the cracked stone path, Caine offered her his arm for balance. They followed it up under the first archway and inside. It was cooler there and everyone relaxed.

 

"Nice digs," Stinger said. There were murmurs of agreement all around.

 

The last time Kalique had entertained her it had been in white, immaculate rooms, the hallways adorned with pompous statues of Seraphi. This place couldn't have been more different. The walls seemed rustic and were intricately carved... but if Jupiter looked close she could see the designs changing, the texture bubbling up or smoothing down. The lighting was dim and the ceilings high--though they too seemed to shift slightly the farther in they went. Like the entirety of the planet, Kalique's little home away from home was meant to look like some sort of natural miracle, yet the undercurrent of science was always there. It made the sudden appearance of a traditional, full metal robot all the more jarring.

 

"Oh my god a robot," Jupiter whispered. She careened to a halt and actually slapped a hand over her mouth, embarrassed by her inner geek. But honestly, _it was a robot_. Easier to understand than most of the tech she’d already encountered, more intricate than the orbs that had been watching her the last time. It was short and fat and _adorable_.

 

Jupiter’s voice was somewhere between a strangle and a squeal. “It’s like a fat BB-8!”

 

"A service unite, Your Majesty," T'sing said. Though she didn't smile, it was clear she was laughing at her. "They're common on most worlds, though this is a finer grade than many. They're used for simple tasks and can provide rudimentary assistance. " She gestured to the shiny blob that was rolling their way. "You need only communicate what you desire."

 

Jupiter was about to say something stupid like, “Be my friend forever,” when Guano pushed forward and said, “TAKE US TO LADY KALIQUE” in a booming, self-important voice. Kiza smothered a laugh while Caine subtly rubbed at his ears. Jupiter slammed Guano on the back.

 

“Thanks. I kinda feel better.”

 

“You’re so welcome, Your Majesty.”

 

It was silly, but Jupiter _did_ feel better. Amazing what a little humor and a freaking awesome robot could do. They followed the service bot down the intricate halls, its shiny body acting like a beacon in the dim light, and as they did Jupiter kept her eyes locked far ahead, away from the strange walls and their patterns. She focused inward instead, on what she had that was solid and reliable. Like her friends, her family, her boyfriend, and her allies. Jupiter had wealth now and a great deal of influence. She’d called this meeting. There was power in that. It ultimately didn’t matter if she didn’t have all the answers yet, or if things sometimes felt topsy-turvy—it was _Jupiter_ who was ultimately in control.

 

“Here we are,” Kiza said. It was some kind of proclamation. The massive doors before them opened.

 

It was a happy thought, and entirely naïve. When they could see into the room Jupiter didn’t even notice the surrounding environment: Kalique and Titus arguing heatedly over a small cocktail table, Famulus and Malidictes off to the side, Carmine with her pad and a glass of blue liquid, Chicanery huddled in the corner, the service bot rolling past and accidentally knocking into a chair. Jupiter’s eyes followed the movement, numb, up the chair’s leg and over the table, missing the massive banquet that had been laid out for them, all the delicious, foreign foods just waiting to be tasted. Instead Jupiter’s brain didn’t reboot until it identified what was sitting at the very head of the table.

 

Balem. He’d come.

 

 _Balem_ , her mind thought. _Baby_ then _Murderer_ then _Son_ then _Enemy_ then _Thing_. That’s what her emotions settled on, because there was nothing recognizable in the creature sitting and facing her way. Balem Abrasax had been known for gaudy jewelry and detailed clothes; baby Balem liked to steal Kiza’s. They were each distinguishable by the aura they presented. This thing though… it was dressed all in black, as if in mourning, and its eyes held neither the fire nor the adoration that she’d come to expect. Balem—this Balem—was lounging in his chair, one leg propped up on the table, his feet bare. There was a small fire pit beside him and a book between his hands. It took Jupiter a moment to realize it was their photo album. Balem was removing each image methodically, tearing it in two, and dropping it into the flames. Across the room she could just make out both their faces as they melted and charred.

 

Jupiter felt like all the breath had been punched out of her. Despite hearing herself drawing in ragged breaths, she was quite sure she couldn’t breathe.

 

The whole room had gone dead silent as they entered. Balem tilted his head curiously, though he didn’t stop his languid destruction. His ears were plain.

 

“Hello, Mother,” he said. “You’re terribly late.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A riddle: How many writers does it take to finish a fic chapter?  
> Answer: Only one, but it's going to take her five million years... 
> 
> Anyway, here's an update :D

"Why is he so extra?" Kiza whispered. Her voice was equal parts awed and horrified.

It was just the ridiculous comment that Jupiter needed to breathe again. With a feeling like ice water dumped down the back of her neck she stumbled forward—literally, her heel catching on her gown and Caine catching her—and she swore that Balem's lips curled up in a mocking smile as she did. That at least put a fire in her belly. That was something Jupiter recognized, and when she straightened it was with a cold, challenging stare.

"We're not," she said calmly. "And if we are late it's because _someone_ changed the venue."

There was a beat of silence. Then everyone started talking at once.

Caine and Stinger flanked her with raised voices, no doubt viewing this whole setup as some kind of threat, while T’sing, Kiza, and Guano put in their own appropriate commentary. That is: official, cutting, and laughing respectfully. Carmine shouted something that Jupiter couldn't make out while Malidictes pulled his hands from his long sleeves, raising them for order. Famulus noticed and rolled her eyes. Chicanery winced. It was Titus and Kalique who could be heard most clearly, turning on each other and resuming their argument, though this time in a language Jupiter had never even heard before. For a few seconds it was chaotic sensory overload—

"ENOUGH!"

Balem pushed his feet off the table, forcing his chair to careen back and then slam down with staggering force. The whole company jumped, especially when he stood and tossed the rest of the photo album into the fire. It caught and a plume of flame shot up high. A spark flew and landed on the sleeve of Balem's dress.

He was staring at Jupiter. Kalique had to step forward, hands clasped and smile insincere.

"Brother dear...your arm?"

Balem's gaze skittered to the slowly growing crackle. He snatched his goblet and poured it leisurely from shoulder to wrist. Red droplets pooled through the fabric and dripped to the floor.

"I'll go change," he said, suddenly calm. "Brother, sister, attend to our mother. I'll only be a moment. Chicanery!"

He snapped his fingers like summoning a dog and before Jupiter could think through what had happened, Balem was gone.

She stared at the door that he and Chicanery had disappeared through. Jupiter had the sudden, powerful hope that when he returned he'd be small and sweet and hers again.

Yeah right.

The others began to disperse around the room, trading murmurs and knowing glances, and as they did Kalique tore her wrist out of Titus' grip, hurrying over. Only Caine and Kiza remained at Jupiter's side and she gave them both a nod that she was fine. They went, though it was clear they didn't wish to. Caine kept one hand resting casually on his blaster at all times.

"There you are," Kalique said, like nothing at all had transpired after they'd walked through the door. Then, to Jupiter's amazement, she hugged her.

And what a hug it was. It wasn't the awkward, back-pounding hugs that Jupiter gave to acquaintances she hadn't seen in years. It wasn't the desperate, fabric-grabbing hugs she had bestowed on her family after they'd finally gotten home safe. It wasn't even something in between, the comfortable hugs for friends that lasted just a little too long and left her wondering, 'Am I holding on too tight? Am I making them uncomfortable?' Kalique hugged in a way Jupiter had never experienced before, like the both of them were fragile and worth handling with care. Jupiter could smell faint perfume and the gold of Kalique's necklace bit into her skin. She hesitantly laid a hand on the flat of Kalique's back.

"Um," Jupiter said eloquently.

"I'm sorry," Kalique whispered, directly into her ear. Then she pulled away, polite smile in place and Jupiter's hands still clasped between hers. To say it left her bewildered was a bit of an understatement.

Sorry... sorry for what? For Balem? It seemed the most obvious assumption, but something in Kalique's gaze didn't sit right with Jupiter. She settled for squeezing her hands back.

"You're a menace," Jupiter said blandly.

"Am I?"

"Yes." She felt a little woozy. "Jesus, where do I even start? How about, 'Moving the dinner location a couple hundred thousand miles away is rude,' and 'You don't get to dictate what I wear,' and oh, 'Guano is not a fucking bargaining piece,' yeah, _yeah_ , let's start with that one…"

"Or perhaps a drink first," Kalique said. Right at that moment the service bot rolled up and Jupiter saw that the top of its head had flattened. It opened from a slit in the middle and a small tray of drinks rose up. Kalique took something bubbly and pink, pressing it between Jupiter's numb fingers.

She'd never been much of a drinker—too many early mornings when she had to work, not enough trust between her and the latest boyfriend--but Jupiter went for it now and took a massive gulp. It burned a little, wonderfully, and when she opened her eyes again they were watering.

Maybe that's why Kalique looked so apologetic. Surely that wasn't natural.

"I thought you'd like my gifts." Kalique immediately cut herself off. "That is…my splice, _your_ splice, she's not a gift. Of course not. I well understand your feelings on such matters. But you took to her so quickly! Who was I to keep you apart? And I thought you'd enjoy seeing my planet. That dress, you look stunning in that dress. As I knew you would. Certainly you can appreciate my intentions? I meant nothing... well. I meant nothing _bad_ by them. You do understand, don't you?"

Jupiter stared. If she didn't know better (but good god did she ever) she'd say that Kalique was babbling.

The rest of the room was filled with similar tension. The other splices had stationed themselves on either side of the table, split between those who were clearly here for Jupiter and those who were trying to blend in with the furniture. The exception was Guano who was none too subtly slipping rolls into the waistband of her pants. That was something they had in common then. Coping with food.

Jupiter took another large gulp of her drink.

"I understand," she said, even though she didn't. "... thanks."

Kalique's whole posture melted. She was in a gown of similar class to Jupiter's, a lovely lavender that, Jupiter now noticed, highlighted how pale she was. She wondered when Kalique had last made use of Regene-X. She wondered if that was really a wrinkle she saw at the edge of her neck. Still, high spots of color came into Kalique's cheeks at Jupiter's words.

"Excellent," she sighed. "I want you to be happy, Jupiter. Truly. Especially in light of these recent... _trying_ events." Kalique's gaze went to Titus, which was a surprise. Jupiter fiddled with the stem of her glass and wondered if she had any hope of manipulating Kalique into giving her information about the family politics. Whether she and her crew had mastered that kind of sophisticated conversation yet.

Jupiter saw Kiza following Guano's example of stealing food and though, no. No way in hell.

The direct approach had always worked just fine. "You two are fighting."

"Yes." Kalique's smile was strained.

"What about? I'd have thought Balem was the bigger—"

An outraged roar sounded then behind the door. It was the kind of shout that shut everyone up again, had Stinger reaching for his gun, T'sing dropping into a defensive position, and all the other splices bowing their heads, as if protecting themselves from an oncoming blow. It also made Jupiter spill the rest of her drink down the front of her dress. She barely noticed the service bot producing a rag of unidentifiable material and mopping up the fizz until, impossibly, she was clean and dry again. Jupiter numbly pat its metal head in thanks.

"—problem," she finished.

The door slammed back open and Balem came swooping out, Chicanery skittering behind at his heels. Apparently Balem didn't like the splice's bowed, shivering frame any more than Jupiter did, because he shoved Chicanery from him in an act that set her mouth shut with a _snap!_ , Kiza's quick reflexes were the only thing keeping Chicanery from falling—and Jupiter rushing over there to make hell. Balem was dressed now in new black robes with gold trim and with another hot flush of anger Jupiter wondered why the hell he hadn't just had the cute little robot fix his sleeve. Or better yet, leave it as it was. It wasn't as if any of them _cared_. What the hell kind of performance did he think he was giving? The whole thing was stupid and dramatic and... and...

Good god he was throwing a temper tantrum.

"Hold my drink," Jupiter said, shoving the glass into Kalique's hands before she could protest. It was something she'd always wanted to say (okay, maybe flairs for the dramatic ran in the family), but that was a little moment Jupiter could preen about later. For now she marched up to Balem, heels clacking. He'd taken a drink but wasn't sipping it, just using the glass to gaze over the edge at her approach. The little intimidation ploy just made her angrier.

"Mother," he said.

One single, god-awful word and Jupiter could feel the blood pumping in her ears; a tingle running through her arms and into her legs. There was a time not too long ago when she would have corrected him without hesitation— _I'm not your damn mother_ —but that time was long past now, and Balem knew it. She was his mother, in some weird, twisted fashion. Or at least, she had been. And Balem kept using that term because he could see what it did to her. Jupiter knew. It was right there in the faint curve of his lips.

"Didn't like the photos I gave you?" she said.

He titled his head. "No. Not so much."

"What then?"

"Hmm?"

"What do you want?"

"An odd question."

"Not. Really."

Jupiter took a step forward, painfully aware that Balem was significantly taller than her. Still, she looked up with as steely a gaze as she could manage, aware in her periphery of everyone else on high alert. She could just make out Titus still standing over by the cocktail table, his hands gripping the edge as he leaned forward, poised like the two of them were about to explode.

Maybe they were.

"What do you want?" Jupiter repeated. It came out as a hiss. "Earth? Because that's not going to happen, you know damn well it's not. You want me to be your precious mother?" She took a perverse pleasure in watching Balem flinch. Later, when everything wasn't so loud and bright, Jupiter might just regret that. "Too bad. She's _dead_ , Balem, and I tried to be something else for you—" her mouth worked. " _Something_ , but it's pretty clear you just wanted to throw that back in my face the first chance you got." She pointed fiercely to the burning fire. "Believe it or not I scheduled this dinner for you. I hoped we could—I could—oh hell, I don't know. I was just looking for something. Was that stupid? Maybe. Naive? Absolutely. But until we reach some kind of understanding we're just going to keep going in circles and I'm _tired_ , Balem. I'm really, really tired. So either give me something to work with or let us leave. Okay? One more time now. _What do you want?_ "

Jupiter looked and she saw him. Really saw him for what felt like the first time in months. She hadn't realized how loud her own voice had grown, otherwise she would have heard the faint sound of cracking glass beside her. She hadn't quite seen all of Balem either, otherwise she would have noticed the shattered wineglass in his hand, the shards eating deep into his palm, blood and wine both running down into the sleeve of his new robe. It changed nothing. Jupiter held her ground even as he leaned forward, close enough that she could see the sparks of madness in his eyes.

"I think," Balem whispered, "that I want to see you suffer."

"....oh."

With a speed and accuracy that would have done Caine proud, Jupiter hauled off and punched him.

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A chapter! I greatly enjoyed writing this one considering that it's a turning point in the fic. You'll understand~
> 
> Also, a heads up on updates: This semester is the WORST as I desperately try to finish an insane amount of material for a November exam and because of that I'm being strict about what fic writing is taking priority. I've made a schedule (that you can view [here](http://itsclydebitches.tumblr.com/post/164879342135/end-of-the-year-fic-goals) if you're interested) and it sadly has just one chapter of WtBB a month, given the number of other projects I've got going. Obviously my hope is that I'll get through everything else on the list and get to start Chapter 14 early, but if not that's where I've disappeared to :) 
> 
> Happy reading!

Dinner was obviously a tense affair.

Jupiter had expected another manic fit from Balem, something that was worthy of both his temper and his station. However, she was surprised when he took the punch with a strange amount of dignity, holding his ground and glaring at her behind a split, bleeding lip. Maybe getting wailed on with a pipe put things into perspective. Maybe he just didn't care about her anger. Jupiter had vague recollections of Chicanery's voice the first night she'd had baby Balem beside her, announcing in a hesitant voice that one Entitled was never to harm another. Jupiter wondered if she truly was. An Entitled, that is. More pressingly, she wondered if anyone else _cared_. Kalique's expression said ‘no.’

Still, it had taken most of Jupiter's authority to keep things under control, what with Stinger still trigger-happy and Caine—bless him—ready to tear out Balem's throat, despite the fact that _she'd_ been the one getting violent. Titus' uproarious laughter had put her fear of repercussions to rest, though it certainly didn't help anything else. Nor did Guano's loud demands for a full-blown fight. Jupiter saw her off to the side, wings spread to full capacity as she crouched low and grinned a fearsome grin their way. Jupiter was reminded in that moment that most bats, like wolves, were carnivores, and it was only T'sing's tight grip on Guano’s arm that had kept her where she was.

Kalique, oddly enough, was the one to help most with damage control, lips white and tightly pursed as she ushered everyone to the main table, her calls overly chipper and optimistic. It seemed like just a second later that Caine was soaking Jupiter's knuckles in a bowl of ice, one hand reaching up to stroke back her hair.

She watched, feeling hollow, as her reddened hand bobbed. Funny, but punching someone really _hurt_.

Caine sunk her hand deeper into that ice and Jupiter hissed.

"You're okay," he murmured.

Jupiter's head snapped up, unaccustomed to such a soft tone from Caine and indeed, he was staring hard at the tabletop with a certain sheen of embarrassment in his eyes. He caught her gaze for only a moment. His hand, steading her wrist, tenderly stroked along the underside. "I apologize, Your Majesty."

Jupiter let out a watery laugh. "For what? Dammit, Caine, don't tell me you're going to try and take the blame for this too. You're sorry for what, exactly? Things getting violent? Not violent _enough_? For letting me make my own mistakes?" Jupiter flicked at the melted water until some shot up to land on his cheek. Caine shook his head, dog-like, and Jupiter smiled a rather sad smile. "Sorry that punching hurts this much? Because ow."

He didn't smile back, but it was a near thing. "Was that your first?"

"Way to make it sound dirty. But no. Kind of? I hit Robert years back—yeah, the ex that cheated—but that was with the base of a lamp. Makes a hell of a better weapon." Jupiter tried flexing her fingers again and was shocked at the pain that lanced through them. "Oh god. Please don't tell me I broke something. That's too embarrassing to deal with right now."

"You didn't break anything," Kiza said, sliding in on Jupiter's right.

"How do you know? Did Stinger teach you field medicine or something?"

"Well yeah, but not because of that. You’re just right. It's way less cool if you broke something. So you didn't."

Jupiter wasn't sure how she felt about that logic, but right now she was willing to bank on it. Especially since Balem was still taking this shockingly well.

Funny, how his calm moods freaked her out more than his temper did. Jupiter watched, wary, as he hailed the service bot and retrieved a towel of his own, unwilling to go and change a second time. Or maybe he wanted to keep looking like this. Balem pressed the towel briefly to his split lip before wrapping it around his cut hand. He sat regally down at the head of the table, the blood he bore shining.

"I was wrong about you," he said softly.

"Oh?" Jupiter's voice caught on the word.

Balem hummed. "Yes. You make an excellent Abrasax after all. Please, pass the fruit."

It was surreal. Jupiter made the mistake of looking across at the walls—the intricate carvings shifting like a slow-motion film—and had to turn away, feeling nauseous. Her good hand shot out to keep Caine in his seat. Her other, red and aching, reached out to take the nearest platter, passing it down. Her arm shook, but as always Jupiter's gaze remained steady.

"There," Kalique sighed. "There."

Jupiter hadn't intended it as a peace offering (her mind, simply: _Balem is hungry_ ), but everyone else seemed to take it as such. They came to sit: Jupiter in the middle of the long table, Caine on her left, Kiza on her right. Stinger took his place beside Caine while T'sing took hers beside him, that side ending with Balem still at the head. He had Chicanery on his left, then Carmine, Kalique, Titus, and Famulus—the two Abrasax looking like wealth itself while flanked by their servants. Guano took the other end of the table. Not because she deserved some sort of honor. Her wings just wouldn't let her fit anywhere else.

The only one out of place was Malidictes. Jupiter would have expected him to cater to Kalique's every whim. Instead he sat, delicate, beside Kiza.

"Well I'm hungry," Guano announced when everyone just sat there. She reached two-handed for the food, only stopping briefly to fish what she'd already stolen back out of her pockets.

"Yes please, help yourself." Kalique gestured to the food. Jupiter noticed a slight shake in her arm as well. "We thought that you would prefer this, Jupiter. The splices eating with us. All of us together. I know you're so... passionate about these little details and I hardly mind." As if to prove her words Kalique pushed platters towards the others first. Famulus began loading her plate with a rather smug air, though Carmine was a little more hesitant.

It was Chicanery who drew their attention as his goblet toppled over, causing a mess that the service bot moved to clean, the splice cursing quietly under his breath. Jupiter was contemplating just how much alcohol they'd spilled so far—it seemed fitting—when Chicanery succeeded in getting another glassful into his hands. For the first time he looked straight at Jupiter and spoke, his voice raspy with disuse:

"To your good health," he murmured, downing the contents. Balem mimicked the toast with a mocking air that Jupiter chose to ignore. She turned to Caine instead.

"Guano said splices never got drunk," she murmured. "Why exactly is Chicanery an exception?"

Caine was looking on their former ally with a good deal of disgust. "He's not. He's a service splice, Your Majesty. Bred to help run trades, keep things orderly, even socialize if need be..." He scowled to demonstrate exactly what he thought of Chicanery's 'socializing.' "Guano and I are military bred. There's no need to... risk us become inebriated."

"Oh." Jupiter paused. "Bees?"

"Can get _very_ drunk," Kiza confirmed. She reached for a pitcher but was quelled by Stinger's stare. It was T'sing who smiled (one of the few they'd had) and took the pitcher for herself. After pouring some into her own goblet she cut Kiza’s generously with water, smiling again at Stinger as she passed it over.

“We’re going to need it,” T’sing said.

Jupiter couldn’t help but agree.

Still, it hurt to see Chicanery like this: slumped with elbows on the table, taking a messy sip every few moments, as if he was doing it out of habit rather than true enjoyment. It had been kinda funny the first time she’d seen him like this. Now it was just sad. Obviously having Balem back—adult Balem—was taking its toll and Jupiter hadn’t the slightest idea of how to fix things.

Well, if you can’t beat ‘em….

She took a sip of her own, letting the hot fizz scurry down her throat and over the back of her spine. Jupiter put her glass down after that though. She wasn’t going to lose herself here. Anymore than she already had at least. She flexed her hand, smothered her dress, and snatched at a platter of thick cut meat.

“I’m a lightweight,” Jupiter muttered, proceeding to ignore Kiza’s look. She didn’t say anything, just loaded up her own plate to match her Queen’s. Stinger followed his daughter and Caine followed Stinger. Before long everyone was eating silently—mostly out of awkwardness, that need to have something to do with your hands and somewhere to direct your gaze. Jupiter might have mistaken this for a normal family dinner if it weren’t for the cloud of tension rising in the hall. It was like lightning in a far-off thunderstorm, crackling just above her head.

 _Hell_ , she thought. _Maybe this_ is _like most family dinners_.

As had happened the other times she’d been off world (or off Earth, technically) Jupiter hadn’t the faintest clue what she was eating. All the fruits were strange colors—made worse by the shifting, dizzying nature of the planet—the meat was tougher than she was used to, and the soup, what she _presumed_ was soup, had a consistency that was closer to pudding. Everything tasted grand though, enough that it permeated even Jupiter's foul mood. She would have expected nothing else from Kalique.

Balem was eating hearty too. Despite everything, Jupiter felt a stab of warmth at that. Was it terrible then, worrying about the health of someone who hated you?

Speaking of hatred...

The meal went on like that for some time and it was only when she’d nearly finished that Jupiter realized one of them hadn’t touched their food. Titus. Seated with one knee propped against the table's edge, he rolled a grape between his thumb and forefinger, never taking his eyes off Jupiter. She hadn't noticed it before, too distracted by snagging her own glances at Balem, but when she did Jupiter couldn't help but feel cold all over. There was something...predatory about that look.

"Really, brother. You're not subtle."

Balem's voice made her jump. He calmly cut up a carrot-looking vegetable. The clink-clink-clink of his knife sounding overly loud. "Our dear Mother is onto you and your schemes."

Titus raised an eyebrow. "Do I care? It's not as if she can do anything."

"You underestimate her."

"Far from it. _You_ underestimate _me_."

"Would you two stop it," Kalique hissed. She slammed down her own utensils and glared between the two of them, not unlike a mother at the end of her rope. Jupiter had the unwelcome urge to laugh. "All I asked was that you accommodate her request for a simple dinner before you—" Kalique suddenly snapped her mouth shut, looking pained.

"Before they do what?"

All eyes turned to her. Jupiter pushed her plate away and everyone else automatically did the same. The service bot cocked its head and began clearly empty and full plates alike as Jupiter stared hard across the table.

"C'mon," she said. "I'm not blind and you sure do seem to enjoy baiting me." Titus lifted his grape at that, finally tossing it into his mouth. "Sorry Kalique, but there’s nothing simple about us and frankly I'm tired of pretending that there is. Yeah, okay, I was a naive idiot for thinking this would work. You done judging me for it? Because I sure the fuck am. Say what you're going to say, Titus, and I'll leave."

"At least stay for dessert..." Malidictes' voice sounded, hesitant. He was watching his employer and Jupiter while the feathers around his face rustled anxiously. "Please, I assure you Queen Jupiter, my Lady Kalique wanted nothing to do with this."

"Nothing to do with _what_?" Stinger growled. The service bot knocked into his chair as it placed some sort of tart in front of him. He shooed it away.

"Very well. You. Fox splice. Get on with it. I'm paying you enough as it is."

Carmine stood obediently at Titus’ command, pushing her dessert aside to make room for her tablet. She didn't react in any way—just sported a bland, perfectly professional expression—but Jupiter thought she could read something in the set of her shoulders, the way the tip of her tail drooped just the tinniest bit. Jupiter remembered trying to manipulate Carmine by asking her name and felt a sharp pain of regret.

She cleared her throat.

"Queen Jupiter," she began. "As you know I am primarily an associate of Lady Kalique's, however, I also act as legal council for the entire Abrasax family." Her arm swept to encompass the four of them.

"Legal council?" Kiza spluttered. "What do you need legal council for?"

Titus waved a languid hand. "It's just silly things really. Cries against 'dangerous work environments,' harvesting distribution, splice rights, blah blah blah. You know how it is."

"Of course." T'sing's tone made it very clear that she didn't know. Guano made an angry chirping sound in the back of her throat.

"Yes," Carmine said slowly. All the confidence she'd had that morning seemed to have bled out of her. She actually hesitated before flipping through something on her tablet. Then, satisfied, she turned and slid it across the table to Jupiter. "Queen Jupiter, heir to the House Abrasax, there is now a suit against you on behalf of Balem and Titus Abrasax—"

"There's a fucking _what_?"

Kiza snatched tablet just as Jupiter caught a glimpse of its contents: a whole slew of paragraphs stuffed with tiny print, words that were no doubt impossible for her to comprehend. Indeed, Kiza's brow immediately knit as her eyes tore over the pages, Stinger trying to take the tablet from her as T'sing pushed back her chair with a horrid screech. Guano stood as well, though she seemed more focused on Caine. He hadn't moved an inch since Carmine first spoke, though Jupiter couldn't hear the faintest growl emanating from the depths of his chest. Guano came to stand behind Jupiter's chair and she heard that angry chirping once more.

Jupiter wasn't angry though. Just tired. Tired and feeling like she somehow knew this was coming. She kept facing Titus because she knew well why Balem was doing this. Titus though... she'd thought that maybe she was getting through to him. Maybe naively so.

The memory of kissing his cheek rose up and for a moment Jupiter thought she might lose her meal.

"Sorry Mother," Titus said, making no effort to sound sorry at all. "You forget that we rule these galaxies. People look to us for guidance, to act as their role models... even their gods, if you will. Why, this isn't personal, but even we must keep some semblance of law and order around here. Kidnapping an Entitled..." Titus tisked and shook his head.

"Kidnapping—?" Caine began, voice strangled, but Carmine cut him off.

"As Lord Titus has said, it isn't personal. In fact, if we were to lay the blame correctly it would be at the feet of Balem's personal splice, Chicanery."

Here Chicanery let out a splutter that was part laugh part sob. Jupiter couldn't see his face behind another goblet, only the trembling in his hands.

"However," Carmine continued, "splices are merely servants. They cannot be considered accountable for their own actions. Is it not true, Queen Jupiter, that roughly two weeks ago Chicanery came to you with news of Lord Balem's transformation, thus transferring authority of the situation over to you? Is it not also true that you took it upon yourself to keep Lord Balem in his vulnerable state, on a foreign planet, without discussing the matter with his other kin first? Without any legal council present?"

"That's enough," T'sing snapped. She threw the tablet back onto the table so that all the silverware rattled. "Don't insult Queen Jupiter. Or the rest of us for that matter. There's more holes in this suit of yours than Biss Cheese."

"Swiss Cheese," Kiza corrected.

T'sing nodded sharply. "Yes. That. Thank you. Honestly, how many contradictions have you already laid out? Splices have no power yet here you stand, Carmine, attempting to dole out some kind of justice. Jupiter was supposedly responsible for the situation, but not responsible enough to make decisions based in Lord Balem's best interest? She was supposed to contact his _kin_?" T'sing glared at Titus and Kalique. "You forget. I was at your previous get-together. I heard that passionate, moving speech you gave. Whatever happened to 'be kind to him,' Your Ladyship? Trust me, Carmine. They were both well informed of the situation. They didn't care!"

Kalique wrung her hands together. "I did not want this," she said, voice weaker than Jupiter was expecting. "But I am not my brothers' keeper."

"Spare me. All of this doesn't even touch on the fact that Lord Balem did that to _himself_!"

Balem twitched at that, but T'sing only leveled a fierce glare his way. "Don't try intimidating me, Your Lordship. You announced it in front of all of us not an hour ago: you _want_ to see Queen Jupiter suffer. Well good luck with that. You want to play with the law? I _am_ the law, and this 'suit' is absurdity in the extreme."

"Which is exactly the point."

It was hard for Stinger to get the words out, so tightly wound was the entirety of his body. "Think about it. Her Majesty has no clear legal stance among the stars." He glanced her way, an apology in the truth. "Are the Entitled gods, or men who answer to the laws of common men? Ha. Depends on who you ask. Is she Jupiter Jones or Seraphi's reincarnation? A mother to children a thousand lifetimes older than her, or just an Earthling?" Stinger spread his hands, a gesture that said he had no more answers than they did. "It doesn't _matter_. They'll tie her up in red tape to figure it out and these three," his glare settled across the table. "Will sit back to watch the show."

"Not all of us," Kalique said and moved to stand. Titus dragged her back down by her wrist though. He leaned in to whisper something into her ear that drew all the blood from her cheeks. Kalique closed her eyes, nodded, and remained where she was.

"An investigator is looking into the events," Carmine said, sounding as if she had no idea whose side she should be on. Indeed, her gaze kept darting between Jupiter and Titus. "You're welcome to review the paperwork—"

She fell silent as Kiza picked up her dessert and dumped it soundly over the top of Carmine's tablet. Chocolate and honey splattered across the table.

"Immature," Caine said, "but _yes_." His voice was nearer to a growl than anything else. Guano hissed between her teeth.

It was Malidictes who leaned behind Kiza to rest a hand on Jupiter's shoulder. She felt small under the weight of it. "Your Majesty? Are you alright?"

She was, oddly enough. Jupiter still didn't feel angry or sad or anything else that she thought she should. She was just tired, a little queasy in the stomach, and very ready to be done with this madness. Jupiter hadn't been joking before. This dinner was a mistake—and now she knew why. Though hell, she'd known why the second her fist had connected with Balem's jaw.

Jupiter stood slowly, her whole body aching like an old woman's. When she turned her smile on the three Abrasax only one of them flinched.

"We're done," she said and the words weren't just in reference to this meal. Jupiter inclined her head towards Balem. "You need this. I get that now and provided you leave Earth out of your schemes... that's fine. It's really fine. Do what you want with me. Just leave everyone else _out of it_."

"Jupiter," Caine murmured, so quiet she almost didn't hear. She let him gently take her injured hand and pull her away from the table. Guano joined them, as did T'sing, Kiza, and Stinger. Was it her imagination that for a moment—just the smallest piece of time—Balem and Titus looked disappointed? Probably. But even if she had seen it, it was no doubt disappointment that she'd not longer play their game. Not tonight, anyway.

Balem rose as well. "You're leaving?" he asked and Jupiter didn't even dignify that with a response. She couldn't look at him, couldn't see wild eyes and a cruel smirk where before there had been something tender. Jupiter realized, suddenly, that Balem even _smelled_ different now.

"Let her go," Titus said, pushing against the table to rock his chair. "You'll hear from Carmine soon as we straighten this all out. It might take a while. Terribly sorry about that."

"Jupiter," Kalique said. It sounded like an apology.

"Mother," Balem countered.

He reached for his glass, only to find that it was long empty at Chicanery's hands and the service bot was busy cleaning up the mess Kiza had made. Balem didn't seem fazed though. He merely picked up his dessert instead. Titus did the same and the both of them waited, quiet, until Kalique picked up her fork as well.

"To your happiness, Mother," Balem whispered, taking a bite… and it was the final straw. Jupiter pushed blindly out of the protective circle her friends had formed, wobbling in her heels and nearly tripping over the hem of her dress. She felt dirty in it now, even more-so than she had before. Jupiter dug fingers into the fabric until she could feel the strands starting to pull apart.

She thought the sound she heard was a tear. But then it got louder.

Jupiter whirled, Caine and Stinger and Kiza and so many hands coming to steady and ground her, because they'd heard it too. It was a strange, wobbling sound with three distinct layers. Jupiter only realized it was a gagging, _choking_ sound when Carmine rushed forward to grab hold of Kalique, suddenly bent double over the table in what could only be pain. Famulus was a mirror image of Carmine as she took hold of Titus. Silent throughout the entirety of their dinner, she looked up now with eyes ablaze.

"What did you _do_?" she shrieked.

 _Nothing_ , Jupiter thought, numb. _I don't do things. You do things to me._

Her mind hooked onto that revelation, enough that time seemed to slow. Jupiter tore her gaze away from Titus and Kalique, missing the way their shaking turned to something else entirely. By the time her eyes traveled the table's length and reached Balem it was already done.

There are certain things that the human mind just wasn't built to see and understand. Jupiter had thought that about the stars as a child, so far out of her reach as to be mythological, yet now she was here. She'd seen her own existence as reincarnation, the possibilities of life beyond humanity, age melting right off a woman's bones as she rose out of alien water... and Jupiter had grown used to it all. This, a small part of her said, was something she'd grow used to as well.

Because Balem wasn't seated at the head of the table. Something of Jupiter's had taken his place.

Short, round, and impossibly small. _Her_ Balem took one look out at the chaos and promptly burst into tears.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I owe all of you a MASSIVE apology for my lackluster work on this fic. I'll be honest: the last few months I've been falling into new fandoms and falling out of others, particularly those like JA that are already incredibly small. I'm always reading/watching new things and I find it difficult to stay invested in fandoms that never have new canon content, or don't have a massive fanbase to generate enthusiasm. I just really haven't been feeling it lately. 
> 
> Nevertheless, I hate to leave fics unfinished. Yes, I've certainly done that with other series, but RtC is one that I've particularly enjoyed in the past and would be proud to finish - even if it sometimes feels like pulling teeth. So for what it's worth I'm trying and bless those of who are still bothering to stick with it <3 <3 <3

Jupiter had fainted twice in her life. The first had been in the middle of a devastating summer, too much heat and too little food throughout the day causing her to careen off the bleachers she'd been standing on, rooting for a friend in an impromptu soccer game. The second time, five years later, was when she'd dislocated her wrist after taking a tumble down the stairs. It hadn't even hurt much—not at first anyway—but seeing a part of her bent like that, _wrong_ , had sent the floor rushing up to meet her.

 

That's how Jupiter felt now, a combination of two points in her childhood: a wave of heat and the awful sense that everything had gone out of alignment.

 

She didn't realize she was wobbling until Caine dug a hand into her arm. Hard. 

 

Jupiter gasped wetly and color swam back into her vision. "Oh god," she heard, unsure if she was the one saying it because Jupiter still felt entirely removed from her own body, floating in some awful, static environment. Maybe that was how she ended up across the room and at Balem's side before any time had really passed. One moment here; the next moment there. Jupiter opened her arms with the same hesitancy she'd give to a dream, convinced that the thing she was reaching for would dissipate like mist.

 

But this wasn't a thing. It was Balem, and the second he launched himself against Jupiter's chest she started to breathe again.

 

He was _solid_.

 

"Mama?" she heard, a tiny, sound muffled somewhere between her heart and her ribcage. Jupiter could only nod dumbly. Shaking, she fisted her hand into the shirt Balem was now swimming in—and felt a sharp spike of pain.

 

"Shit," Jupiter hissed. She wrenched Balem back and he rocked a little in surprise, but Jupiter was too busy tracing the lines of his face with her eyes, the throbbing in her own hand acting as a horrible reminder. Yes, the split lip was still there; the faint yellowing around his cheek. Looking down, Jupiter could just make out the now tiny cuts that covered Balem’s shaking hand. It sent a wave of nausea rolling through her gut to see blood on him. _Now_ of course she regretted that punch.

 

"I'm not supposed to repeat that word," Balem murmured and it brought on a whole new pain that Jupiter welcomed with every fiber of her being.

 

Honestly. What the _fuck_ was even going on. 

 

It was Guano who suddenly appeared in Jupiter's vision, wings half-spread as she peered curiously down at their bundle on the floor. Her expression was easily the most serious that Jupiter had ever seen on her. 

 

"Is this something we're happy about?" Guano whispered, dazed. Jupiter barked out a laugh.

 

Like she was supposed to know the answer to that.

 

Her curious voice sent things into motion again though and Jupiter suddenly found herself swept up into a new kind of chaos. Her world had narrowed for a moment, but now it opened back up to include everyone else in the room—a deluge of contradicting emotions. It was Famulus who repeated her earlier question, only this time it came out as a scream.

 

" _What the hell did you do?_ "

 

Her piercing voice sent Balem scurrying deeper into Jupiter's arms. She gathered him easily, allowing Guano to step in front of them both with wings spread, claw-like hands curled as weapons. Jupiter still peaked around her though and the sight she saw was almost, _almost_ as shocking at finding little Balem back in her life.

 

Titus was there—oh yes—but Jupiter only recognized him through the clothes now pooling around his waist and shoulders. Gone were the cocky, chiseled features and in their place was the pure roundness of youth: round cheeks, round eyes, a perfectly round head with brown hair plastered atop it. Famulus stood over the little boy like an avenging fury... but she seemed hesitant to touch him. Her arms hovered just near Titus' cheek (turned from her, knees curling protectively against his chest, too-big pants dropping to the floor) and when it was clear that she couldn't claim him as Jupiter had claimed Balem, Famulus turned her attention towards what she _could_ accomplish.

 

There'd been a gun hidden on the underside of the table. She had it in her hand and pointed towards Jupiter in the span of two seconds.

 

"I wouldn't."

 

Guano had hissed and spread her wings even further, but it was Caine, Stinger, Kiza, and T'sing that drew guns of their own—some of them from places Jupiter wasn't in a state to hypothesize on. Despite having been clustered around her just minutes before they now formed a perfect semi-circle around the threat, each and every arm steady as iron. Famulus' was shaking like a leaf.

 

"What did you do?" she said a third time. This one came out as a whisper.

 

"I don't know," Jupiter answered honestly. Maybe Famulus heard the truth there, maybe a bit of logic had wormed its way into her panicking brain...whatever it was, she slammed the gun back onto the table and hung her head.

 

There was a beat of uncomfortable silence.

 

"Your Majesty," Kiza said.

 

She was pointing to the same side of the table where Famulus stood and a miniature Titus rocked slightly in his chair, and with those two things holding her it took Jupiter a moment to see what else was supposed to be important. What else possibly _could_ be important. It was Chicanery's shambling steps forward—trying to get a closer look—that finally drew her eye.

 

Carmine held tight to her pad, her tail standing nearly on end like a cat's. Her ears were pressed flat against her skull as she stared distastefully at the hands gripping tight to the edge of her jacket. Really tiny hands.

 

"I don't know what's going on," Carmine growled. "But please get this _kit_ off of me."

 

"Off of me!" the 'kit' repeated, seemingly pleased at their own ability to mimic. Jupiter watched, astonished, as they laughed uproariously and swung back and forth with Carmine's jacket acting as a counter balance. It wasn't the chipper voice in an otherwise solemn room that had Jupiter gaping like a fish though, or even the fact that, in order to escape the bonds of those too-big clothes, the child bounced about entirely naked. No, it was the fact that she was looking at a third _boy_.

 

 _Kalique_ , Jupiter thought. She shook herself. Took another breath.

 

"Kiza." 

 

A single word was enough to set her into motion. With an organization that made Jupiter more than a little proud, T'sing was already shrugging out of her jacket while Stinger holstered his gun to pry Kalique off of Carmine. They met in the middle, Kiza scooping their third kid into the coat and settling her firmly on her hip. Kalique immediately set to tugging at Kiza's pigtails, still laughing.

 

It was all more than a little surreal.

 

"Don't touch the food."

 

It was Malidictes, speaking for the first time as he gazed with a hard stare down at the table. He delicately lifted one hand, almost as if he wanted to disobey his own order... and then drew back. He nodded once. "I doubt it's safe."

 

"Safe?" Chicanery repeated, swaying in place.

 

Jupiter looked to where the feast was still spread, her stomach roiling. Her hands tightened against Balem’s back.  

 

"Let's move somewhere else," she said, tone broking no room for argument. Where though? The ship seemed the obvious solution, but all at once the idea of walking back through those changing halls, the impossible world outside with its heat... Jupiter couldn't do it. Not until her stomach settled again and she had some faint idea as to _what the hell was happening_. Malidictes was still staring at their table; Famulus was still staring at Titus. Instead of breaking either from their thoughts Jupiter looked around until she found an actual friend.

 

"BB-8?" and god the robot actually responded to that. If she hadn't been dealing with, well, _this_ , Jupiter would have cackled. "Can you lead us someplace else? Uh, like a living room? Somewhere close."

 

To her shocked amusement out of the top of its head popped not another tray, but a giant arrow literally pointing them towards a new destination; thankfully in the opposite direction from where they'd come. With a nod to Caine the fighters set up a perimeter around the rest of the group, flanking the sides and the back with Caine leading in front. Kiza was the exception with Kalique still in her arms—now beating some sort of rhythm against her own collarbone—and Titus didn't seem inclined to move from his chair. Or even lift his head. Sparing them not a glance Famulus hopped up onto the table and stationed herself beside him. Waiting.

 

Fantastic. Jupiter would just have to deal with them later. With a grimace she kicked off her heels and left them lying on the decorative floor. Her feet ached.

 

 _Everything_ ached.

 

To think that just minutes ago they'd been arguing family politics, guilt, charging her with _kidnapping_ , for god's sake. Well, at least there was something like actual evidence for that claim. Now that Jupiter had Balem back in her arms, it would take a hell of a lot more than fucking Titus to take him from her.

 

Jupiter paused in the new hallway. Titus. Back in that massive room, curled into a protective ball with only Famulus for company.

 

"Mama?"

 

That voice. Jupiter drew in a little gasp and looked down, finding that Balem had finally emerged from the safety of her dress to look up at her. His eyes had a particular shine to them, like he wanted to cry but wouldn't let himself just yet. Jupiter smoothed his hair and watched as his own breath hitched.

 

"You're here?" Balem whispered, so quiet his voice was nearly lost to the sounds of their travel. A strange question, but Jupiter nodded all the same.

 

"I'm here. Okay?"

 

"…Okay."

 

And he shifted his head back onto her chest, limbs curling around her with sheer exhaustion. Had he always been this heavy? Was he taller? Jupiter couldn't tell if this was the weight of an older boy—the one she'd briefly seen before he transformed back—or if it was just the situation, exhausting her in turn.

 

_To your happiness, Mother._

 

That toast. Yes, sarcastic at the time... but telling all the same.

 

Jupiter hefted Balem more firmly into her arms, deciding that it hardly mattered either way. If this was the weight of happiness, then she'd gladly carry it.


End file.
